


Black Days

by MsMojoRisin



Series: After Serenity [3]
Category: Firefly, Serenity (2005)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-06-18 06:03:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 28,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15479223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsMojoRisin/pseuds/MsMojoRisin
Summary: Simon reflects on his role in the Miranda incident and on Serenity.  Starts out pretty dark but ends up with a light at the end of the tunnel.





	1. Simon

Simon turned on his side and buried his face in hair that carried a lingering scent of engine oil. Not the most romantic, and not what he was used to in a woman, but the smell was all Kaylee and, for now, that was enough for him. They lay together in her bunk with Kaylee on her side facing the opposite wall and Simon spooned up against her back.   In the past weeks, Kaylee’s bunk had become a refuge; the prettily decorated room comforted him. As did the woman lying next to him. 

“I got a little coin stashed away for a rainy day,” Kaylee said. “Days here are rainy and that’s a solid fact.” 

Rainy would be a severe understatement; the mood on Serenity was a veritable cyclone of bad emotions. When they first set off from Persephone, the feeling had been hopeful but after the Alliance released their so-called findings of who had been responsible for Miranda, any optimism they felt was bitterly crushed. The victory in sending out the Wave that had claimed so many friends had been cruelly snatched away. Now all that was left was guilt, anger, grief, and an increasing sense of hopelessness.    

“Maybe I could find us some sweet weed. Everybody gets happy with that.”

Simon didn’t think that temporary and artificial relief was the answer. “If only it were that easy.”

He felt Kaylee tense at his words. “Well, I ain’t givin’ up. Just need more time is all.”

“It’s been a month since we left Persephone.” Thirty seven days, actually. Thirty seven days with nothing to do but think. Sailing through the black, looking vainly for work the crew had nothing but slowly passing time on their hands. 

Kaylee turned to face him. “It’ll get better. Not findin’ jobs is just straining the Cap’n and Zoë.”

The lack of jobs was proving to be real problem – one that Simon couldn’t figure out a plausible solution. He cheered a little, however, as he finally found the right word to describe the feeling that had nagged him the last few weeks.  Useless. It was not a feeling he had ever experienced before. On Osiris, he was useful, needed. Important. His medical expertise saved countless people but on this boat he was…useless. And worse, a burden. 

“I should go check on River,” he said starting to get up.

“She’s fine. ‘Nara’s with her,” Kaylee said; her voice censuring him for resorting to the most obvious of reasons to leave. “Just like she has been for the past month.”

He lay back down and stared at a jaunty picture on the bulkhead. Kaylee was right; River was doing well spending so much time with Inara. She didn’t seem to mind devoting her time to River; didn’t seem to regard his sister as a burden. But then again she could leave the ship any time, could return to her life whenever she felt like it. Inara had options that he didn’t and chose to stay. He was…stuck.

Stuck on this boat where half of the other six people on board studiously avoided him. Simon had never felt particularly welcome on Serenity but the last month was close to unbearable. He and the Captain and Zoë had never been overly friendly but their coldness toward River and him was taking its toll. Even Jayne’s shunning was starting to sting. 

“Kaylee, I just can’t see how we can stay.” He hadn’t meant to voice his thought.

Kaylee sat up. Unmindful of her nakedness, she turned and faced him. “Don’t give up on the Captain. I know that things been rough with him and Zoë and Jayne but it just takes time.”

He lightly trailed a finger up her arm. “Time is something we certainly have plenty of.” His wondering finger stopped just below her shoulder. 

“We should have left at Beaumonde,” he said vacantly. “If only River hadn’t—“

“How long you plannin’ on if onlying?”

“Forever.”

With a stern look, Kaylee turned away from him. The atmosphere in the cheery room chilled considerably and Simon regretted his petulant tone. Murmuring a quiet apology against her neck,   his hands glided over her arm inviting a response. She remained tense until he softly kissed her shoulder. Her hands reached behind to stroke his leg and Simon gladly surrendered coherent thought.

* * *

 

When Simon awoke the next morning Kaylee had already gone. He lay in the narrow bed longer than was necessary rising only when he couldn't rationalize hiding any longer. Opening the door, he took a quick glance around relieved that he didn't see anyone. Just as he turned to close the door, Jayne walked past roughly bumping into him. Simon's gaze followed Jayne until his eyes met the Captain’s. He had witnessed Jayne’s none-too-subtle maneuver but turned away from Simon and went back to the dining area.

Simon decided to take the stairs to the cargo bay on his way to the common area. There, he found Inara and River much as he had found them the last several mornings. They were both sitting on the floor in the lotus position. River’s eyes were closed and her face was relaxed. She looked peaceful sitting so calmly. A spark of happiness flared at the sight of her. Moments like this he could almost believe she was better - that the secret of Miranda was truly the cause of her instability. Then she would open her eyes and he would see the madness that had forced upon her.

“River, time for your medication.”

“I’m concentrating,” she said not opening her eyes.

“This will help you concentrate better.”

“Don’t want it.”

“River,” his voice was stern. She needed to understand how important it was to keep her even. It was, to Simon’s way of thinking, absolutely essential that she not have any “episodes.”

He went into the med bay to prepare the shot. 

“Simon, are the medications necessary?” Inara asked. “She really does seem to be doing—“

“Are you willing to bet your life that meditation will cure her? She could kill you, you know.”

“Of course she could. But then, anyone could kill anyone, couldn’t they? They just choose not to.”

“Choose.” Simon let out a bitter laugh. “Does River have any conscious choice in what she’s doing? It seems to me that someone took her choices away when they cut into her brain.”

“Still, don’t you think alternative methods may be helpful? I truly believe that with practice, River can better control her mind.”

“We have no idea what other triggers have been implanted in her mind. Someone could utter a word and be dead the next moment.” What would he do if Inara or Kaylee lay dead by River’s hand? 

He sighed and looked out the window. “I’m afraid she will snap and kill someone. Not just do funny crazy stuff but actually kill someone. I appreciate anything you can do to help her but I cannot in good conscience do anything that could cause her to lose control. It’s easier for everyone if she continues taking the medication I prescribe.”

“Easier for her or you?”

“Do you think I have a choice? What would you call being responsible for a young woman who could kill at any moment?  Do you remember that cat at the shipyard? The one she was convinced was an Alliance plant? Well, I vividly remember thinking that she was going either slice it to shreds or break its neck.”

“Simon…”

“She lost control, Inara, and I cannot understand why. Why was she so content with the cat one moment and then the next she’s raving that it was spying on her? I truly appreciate everything you’re doing for us but I cannot rely on her word that she is alright. No, it’s best to continue with her meds, limit exposure to any public waves or messages. And if possible, keep her confined to the ship.”

“That doesn’t sound like much of a life.”

Finished prepping the shot, Simon set it down and looked at Inara. She looked so very different from the woman he first met almost a year ago. The elegant clothes and expensive cosmetics were gone. The beautiful woman remained but what had all this cost her? He felt that he had ruined her life, too - just as the Captain said he would when they had first met. 

He gave Inara a helpless look and went to give River her medication.

* * *

 

For some unfathomable reason, everyone still gathered together for dinner. Except River. Two weeks of uncomfortable silences with raging emotions proved to be too much for her. 

The Captain sat at one end flanked by Jayne and Zoë. Kaylee sat at the other with Simon and Inara beside her. Simon always sat next to Zoë. It was easier this way so they wouldn’t accidentally look at each other. Usually Simon didn’t speak not wanting to draw any attention from Jayne, Zoë and the Captain.

Tonight, Inara had tried her hand at the evening meal. Simon had expected more from the Companion than the grey mushy substance on his plate. No one complained about the unappetizing look of the evening meal.

“Not bad, ‘Nara,” Kaylee said. Every mealtime, she and Inara tried to lighten the mood but after their efforts were greeted with hostile stares and stilted responses they gave up and talked together.   

“That’s sweet, Kaylee. I followed your instructions to the letter but I think I did something wrong.” As she spoke she tilted her spoon allowing the protein to fall with an unappetizing thud.

“And how was your day, Captain?  Didja do anythin’ interestin’?” Kaylee asked. 

“Fine and no.” 

The table fell silent. Kaylee looked to Inara for help but Inara was glaring at the Captain. She looked disgusted, not at the food, but at him. A feeling of dread came over Simon as he saw a confrontational gleam in her eye. He was surprised that the two of them had lasted this long without a public fight.

“Don’t look at me like that, Inara,” Mal snapped.

“Like what, Mal?” 

Inara’s voice was honey but Simon knew that when she adopted her calm, Companion façade, trouble usually followed. The moment had been coming for awhile but Simon silently begged Inara to just let it go.

“If ya’ll think we’re all going be exchangin’ sensitivities you’re on the wrong boat.”

“I wasn’t thinking that.” She smiled at him and took a sip of her drink. “I do think the three of you have to remember there are other people on this ship.”

“You think we don’t know that?” He asked, meeting her gaze. They looked at each other for a few moments. 

“Maybe it would be good for us all to talk…you know…just talk to each other,” Kaylee said.   

“And what would you like to talk about?” Mal asked rudely giving her a stern look. 

Simon lightly squeezed her knee encouraging Kaylee to be quiet. His ploy worked. Kaylee shrugged, but shot Simon an irritated look and removed his hand from her leg.

“Don’t bully her!” Inara said. She looked more exasperated than Simon had ever seen her. “She’s just concerned about everyone. This discord is weighing heavily on her.”

“Anyone sitting at this table got somethin’ to say, spit it out!” He snarled the words daring Inara to say another word.

No longer able to keep quiet and let Inara and Kaylee fight his battles, Simon hesitantly raised his hand. He knew they were only trying to help River and him but he had been hiding long enough. He was tired of allowing others to fight his battles for him.

Mal looked down at his food unwilling to give Simon any indication he wanted to hear what the other man said.

“So spit it out,” Zoë looked steadily at Simon. This was the first time she had addressed him directly since Miranda. He met her gaze and willed himself not to look away.

He lowered his hand. Looking around the table he focused on the hostile section.

“Uh…I’d just like to clarify where we stand on Serenity. River and I, that is. We…uh…well, it seems that we aren’t exactly wanted.”

Jayne snorted loudly.

“Of course you’re welcome.” Kaylee gave him a significant look. “You and River are family.”

“Ain’t my family,” Jayne muttered.

“Ain’t mine neither!” Mal said. “Seems to me I got saddled with a lot of dead weight lately.” He looked at Inara as he spoke. “Not getting any work or rent from the three of you.”

“There hasn’t been an opportunity for anyone to get shot—“ Simon stopped knowing how stupid he sounded.

Without a word to anyone Zoë took her dishes deposited them loudly in the galley and left. 

“I know work has been scarce lately. I’m thinkin’ maybe we can’t afford to carry those that don’t contribute.”

“So, at our next stop, do you want to just drop off Simon, River, and me off? Is that what you’re suggesting?” Inara asked in her most calm, serene, innocent tone. 

“Might not be a bad idea,” he said after a long pause. Mal’s gaze held hers before looking down at his plate.  “This boat ain’t got anything for you.”

Inara kept looking at the Captain. She seemed calmer than before.

“What about Simon and River? What happens to them?”

“Inara, don’t,” Simon started.

Mal didn’t say anything.

“Fine, Mal. Drop us all off at the Training House.” She turned to Simon, and he could see a wild look in her eye. “We can figure out what to do from there. It’s best to get River off this ship.”

“What do you mean? Best for River?” Mal looked insulted at her insinuation.

“River is choking on guilt!” The calm façade vanished replaced by heated anger. “She’s a seventeen year old girl with more guilt than anyone deserves and she doesn’t deserve it. She didn’t do anything wrong!”

Simon looked down at his plate. Inara was right. River didn’t do anything wrong. It was him. His weakness to stay in the shelter of Serenity. To allow the Captain to stand for them. As a doctor who swore an oath to do no harm he was painfully aware that people died because of his decisions. Died for his sister. Another new emotion rose in him: shame.

“Ain’t sayin’ she did,” Mal said disinterestedly as he went back to eating. “But, can’t take you to the Training House. Not enough fuel.”

Inara had a vaguely trapped look on her face. She threw her napkin on her plate and left far less gracefully than Simon had ever seen her move.

No one spoke for the rest of the meal. It was Jayne’s turn for dishes but he gave Simon a glare and left the table. The Captain left soon after.

“Guess it’s up to us to do the dishes,” Simon said giving Kaylee a weak smile.

“I gotta go check a couple things out,” Kaylee said not looking at him. 

Simon watched her go then looked back at the mess on the table and in the galley. He rested his head on his hand and stared unseeing at his plate. He and River should have gotten off somewhere. Anywhere. His gaze moved up to the ceiling and he couldn’t believe this was his life.

" _Shepherd, I’m sorry for what happened.”_

 " _I don’t believe you were the one that cracked my head,” Book said with a slight grimace._

_“No, but anything that happens as a result of River, I can’t help but feel responsible.”_

_Book held his head back to look Simon in the eye._

_“What men choose to do in pursuit of their prize rests on them. Only them. Never forget that you saved your sister.  You were brave. Men who creep in in the dead of night are cowards.”_

_“Sometimes I think we should find a deserted moon and just…” Simon trailed off not even knowing how to finish his sentence. Do what?_

_“I think it’s best you stay where you are. Besides, the Captain needs to watch over you just as much as you need watching over. And from what I’ve seen of Rim existence, you’re not cut out for the life that would await you on some of those worlds.”_

_“But Kaylee, Inara, everyone was in danger. That bounty hunter could have killed them all.”_

_“But he didn’t.”_

_“How do I know the next one looking for River will exercise the same restraint?”_

_“You don’t, son. Now, what have you got for this splitting headache?”_

 His plate was lifted and joined others in a pile. He looked up to see River quietly stacking the dishes. He tried to give her an encouraging smile but none came. They cleaned the mess together. In silence. 


	2. Simon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zoe adjusts to her new life on Serenity.

 Zoë fell to the floor her hands braced flat on the hard metal. One, two, three…She kept her eyes focused on a point on the cold floor as her mind concentrated on her technique; spine straight, inhale down, exhale up, abs contracted, keep the body in perfect alignment. Her moves were quick but precise. Twenty-seven, twenty-eight…

_"I could be the floor, you know," he said lazily, watching her morning routine with great interest from the comfort of their bed. "You with the pushups, me with…being the floor." He slid off the bed as he spoke. "Get it?"_

  _"How 'bout you joinin' in?” She asked with a pretend stern look. “Little exercise wouldn't kill you."_

_"We went over that, honey. I will exercise only if we can both do it naked. Exercise that is." He looked at the ceiling pondering something she knew he would be sharing soon. Man rarely had a thought that didn't make it out his mouth. "Naked jumping jacks would be interesting."_

_The thought of naked jumping jacks almost had her lose her count. She shot him a quick grin which he took for an invitation. Rolling onto his back, he inched closer to her unmindful of the cold hard floor. He let out an exaggerated “Youch!” but scooted even closer all the while looking hopeful as she stubbornly continued her pushups._

_His grin became wider and when he grinned like that, Zoë couldn't resist. And damn the man, didn't he know it? Her smile matched his as she moved over him to complete her pushups. But she never did get to fifty…_

Forty-nine, fifty. Rolling over, she laced her fingers behind her head and began her sit-ups. One, two, three… Some might find it tricky forging a challenging regimen in the confines of a small bunk but not her. Ten years spent in the army gave one plenty of knowledge about basic PT and she easily fell back onto regimens first drilled into her by her father and then excruciatingly reinforced by her drill sergeant. 

Gator Gossett had plenty of disdain for what he considered modern exercise techniques. Didn’t need anything fancy to keep the body fit was his way of thinking. Strengthen the core. Hone the reflexes. Elevate the heart rate. Easy as that.

The man had also taught her that a strong body makes for a strong mind.  _Wonder what he’d think of Jayne?_  Forty-one, forty-two… Her spine touched down on the floor hurting a still tender nerve. She winced slightly but didn't consciously register the pain; if you’re strong enough, you can endure most anything.

Forty-nine, fifty. Without pausing, she sprang to her feet working more of the calisthenics portion of her morning routine. All but the jumping jacks, that is. Every time Zoë came to that part of PT, she skipped right over it.   And skipped over it today, cursing herself as she did. But Zoë didn’t beat herself up overlong on that score; she had a schedule to keep. Her mind pushed thoughts of jumping jacks aside as she continued her calisthenics.

Exactly thirty-five minutes later, she paced a small circle giving her heart-rate a chance to slow down. Her pace soon quickened and turned to a slow jog as she began to shadow box.   Sweat trickled down her face as her bare feet danced about the room. The only sound was her short exhales as her fists pummeled an imaginary foe. Today that foe was Gator. Not because she bore him any ill will but thinking of the old tyrant comforted her. 

After a particularly hard punch, she glanced at the clock above her bed. The arms of the Tyrannosaurus Rex told her it was almost 0545. Picking up a jug sitting on the floor, she noisily guzzled down lukewarm water. When the container was empty, she leaned against the desk and looked around the immaculate room. The bed was perfectly made. The toys appropriately arranged by height on the shelf. Her attention was drawn to the one thing that was off; the door to the closet was open giving her a clear view of an assortment of loud shirts. Staring at the orange one, she remembered how much she hated the damned thing.

Grabbing her towel, she slammed the closet door shut and climbed out of her bunk. At this hour, she didn’t run the risk that someone else was using the crew showers. Kaylee, and by extension everyone else, knew her schedule and gave her a wide berth. She stripped off her sweaty clothes and stepped into the small shower stall. Water was at a premium so she kept her cold shower short. Unless they got this next job, their water supply would dwindle even more and that meant no showers at all.  In less than five minutes, she cleaned her body and her sweaty clothes. She briskly toweled herself dry then pulled her drenched but clean clothes from the shower.

At 0600, Zoë made her way to the dining area knowing that she had at least another hour before seeing anyone else. The lamp on the dining room table was still lit. Zoë went into the galley and put a pot on to boil. She pulled out two big mugs and a cheery yellow coffee carafe. The matched set looked distinctly different from the rest of the dishes that had survived the landing.  As she leaned back against the small counter waiting for the water to boil, she picked up the carafe turning it over in her hands. The set was a present from Inara to her. Kitchen prettery had never interested her much but Zoë had grown to love her fine little set. She idly traced the red vine connecting the pretty flowers that adorned the pot. It surprised her how much she liked the prettiness of it and the matching mugs. The whistle brought her back. She fixed the coffee and poured herself a cup. Setting the carafe and the extra mug on the table, she went up to the bridge. 

Touching the palm tree briefly, she sat down at the co-pilot’s console. A light was flashing indicating messages. The first message was for Inara. The second message was from Abner Davis.  Hope flickered when she saw Abner’s face but the more he talked, the deeper her frown became. Zoë briefly debated waiting for Mal before responding to Abner. She gazed at the palm tree and the brontosaurus that someone had placed next to the tree as if the dinosaur was munching on the leaves. 

She waved Abner. After the short wave, Zoë scanned the Cortex for any news that would affect Serenity. There was still no official mention of their role in the Miranda situation. Even more unsettling was the lack of wanted notices for Simon and River.  _Someone still wants her. That’s a fact._  Zoë leaned back in her seat and sipped her coffee. She looked at out at the black until she heard someone stir in the hallway. 

“That you?” Zoë called out even though she knew who it was. A mumbled response greeted her but she smiled and went down to the dining room.

"Mornin’," Kaylee said, yawning. She sat down at the table and eyed the carafe Zoë was bringing over. “How strong you make it today?”

“What this?” Zoë teased. “This ain’t nothin’.”

Kaylee gave her a skeptical look as she sipped her coffee. “Maybe I am gettin’ used to it. My face ain’t yowin’.” She took another tentative sip. “How’s your mornin’?” It wasn’t just an idle question and she expected a sincere answer.   

“It’s good.” Zoë said nodding her head affirming to Kaylee the truth of her statement. Some days Zoë talked about Wash. On those days, Kaylee would invariably get a little misty eyed and Zoë would comfort her.   Today was not one of those days.

Kaylee nodded back smiling slightly. “Yer old Sarge give you a good fight today?”

“I whooped him good.”

“Hear from Abner?”

“I did. Not good news.”

Kaylee studied Zoë; her worried concern clouding her eyes. “What’re we gonna do, Zoë?” She asked softly.

“Yeah, what are we gonna do?” Jayne asked not so softly. Zoë hadn’t heard him come in but she had smelled him.  _Well, at least the water shortage wouldn’t affect Jayne._

“Cap’n will figure out something.” 

“Any of that left?” Jayne asked pointing to the coffee pot and snorting loudly clearing his nose. 

“Always is, Jayne.” Kaylee replied a little coolly. “Well I’m off to take a quick shower.” With a look to Jayne she left the room.

“She mad?”

“Ain’t winnin’ friends with your stench.”

“Huh?” Jayne looked truly baffled. He smelled his armpit. “Smells healthy to me.”

Times like this, she really missed Wash. He would have some wry comment to offer Jayne. A comment Jayne wouldn’t understand.

“We still got some powdered eggs,” Jayne said. “How ‘bout I make you breakfast?”

Of all the crew’s efforts in helping her through her grief, Jayne’s was the most mystifying. Zoë started to refuse his offer but he looked so damned hopeful. Then there was the fact that the man was actually a decent cook. Made sense, though, considering how much he liked to eat. 

“I could eat,” Zoë said. Jayne grinned and jumped up. “Make sure you wash them hands first.” Best not to dwell overlong on what biological substances clung to his flesh.

“What’s the word?” Jayne asked as he worked. 

“Ain’t happening.”

“Hell.” 

Zoë watched him as he cooked. These last weeks the man had tried to be a good friend to her. Never had she seen Jayne so solicitous of anyone. It was downright unnerving. 

“What about with…you know?” Jayne asked. “Ain’t really looking forward to Lin’s sister finding out about us.”

“I'm keepin' an ear out.” 

“Nothin’s connecting us with that,” Mal said coming into the dining area. Instantly, the easy-going atmosphere vanished. Unconsciously, Zoë sat a little straighter. Mal walked over to the coffee pot and started to pour but realized it was empty.

“Sure?” Zoë hoped Mal was right. How would anyone know the Alliance had been after them? Not like they left behind calling cards explaining the reason for their attacks.

“Pretty sure,” he said going to put the pot on to boil but Jayne was using the burner. The two men eyed each other and the feeling in the room tensed even more than it had when Mal first arrived. 

“Jayne,” Zoë said calmly. 

“These’re ‘bout done anyway.” Jayne shrugged, backing down. “Zoë’s eggs,” he added giving Mal a superior look. The contempt faded from his eyes as Mal narrowed his own and stared him down.

“What’s going on?” Inara asked breaking the moment. She looked quizzically between Mal and Jayne and Zoë.

 Mal set the pot on the counter. “Jayne’s making us breakfast. And coffee.”

“Oh,” Inara said. 

Sitting down at the table, Mal picked up Kaylee’s abandoned mug. Seeing all the coffee gone, he set it back down. "Any word on that job with Abner?"

"Ain't for us," Zoë said.

"What do you mean?"

"From what I learned of the job, we ain't up to it."

Zoë could see Mal struggle not to get angry with her. "Care to expound on that?"

She gazed at him steadily before answering. "Job requires flyin' expertise."

“Huh.”

Inara and Jayne exchanged a glance.

“And unless you’ve figured out how to steady down a freighter, don’t see how we’re the ones for the job.”

Mal didn’t even know what she was talking about let alone how to perform the complicated maneuver but Zoë felt no satisfaction throwing their lack of a pilot in his face. 

Jayne set her plate down in front of her. The eggs almost looked real. Fluffy and yellow. Looked good, too, but she was choking up. Her eyes met Inara’s who moved closer to comfort her. Zoë raised her hand and got up from the table. 

She stumbled to the catwalk. Leaning over the railing, she grasped the metal tightly. Almost painfully. Her eyes clouded but through her tears she saw River standing below. They looked at each other for a moment before Zoë pulled back and screamed. Her pain and grief echoed through the hold. She fell back but Mal caught her and held her tight.


	3. Kaylee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>  Kaylee tries to be peacemaker for the crew. 

Lying on her back, Kaylee gazed up at Serenity's engine. One would think lying as she was on the narrow and confining accessway under the engine room that she would find no comfort but this was the best place to detect if there was anything out of whack with Serenity’s heart. Not only was it the perfect visual angle, but from where she lay, she could feel Serenity breathe. Kaylee turned her head to the side and closed her eyes listening to the steady rhythm and feeling the faint vibrations emanating from the engine. She hoped to find something, anything that needed to be fixed.   But all was as it should be. Nothing to fix. Nothing to take apart and figure out what was wrong. If she didn’t love Serenity as she did, Kaylee might have broken something only to have something to occupy her mind. 

Feeling a little guilty for wishing ill on her girl, Kaylee scooted out from under the engine. Looking around her work area, her critical gaze took in every tool as wells as every bit of machinery. Nothing was out of place. She'd even cleaned an old oil stain that looked to be older than herself.  Sliding back the cover, she peered at her engine from up above wishing she could figure out the ‘verse as well as she could figure out machines. 

Finally giving in to the thoughts that she unsuccessfully tried staving off, she sat on the small ledge in the back of the room. Today, thoughts of the Shepherd had been hovering about her mind. She didn’t like thinking about Book and thought it strange that reflecting on Wash didn’t upset her the same way thoughts of a man she’d only known for a short while did. 

Every day Kaylee had thoughts of Wash. Couldn’t help missing him, good friend that he was, but thoughts of Wash didn’t rob her of hope. Didn’t make her ponder the ways of the universe. Didn’t scare her. Not like when her mind conjured Shepherd Book and the people of Haven. Even now, she could see so clearly her friends lying dead on the dirt. Closing her eyes, she allowed herself to remember the smells of smoke and death. 

Opening her eyes, she was momentarily startled to find herself back in her engine room. The smell still lingered, however.  _How could they do that?_ Looks like the Captain, Zoë and the Independents had the Alliance figured right. Kaylee had always thought that the Purplebellies were a nuisance but she hadn't understood why people felt compelled to kill and die to be independent from it. Her mother thought the war was stupid and believed that people killing people for politics was just plain wrong. At the time, Kaylee had agreed with her mother, but now she was beginning to understand the need for fighting. 

She would never, ever in her whole life comprehend the reason why those people on Haven had to die like they did. Life had been hard for them, sure, but they were good people just trying to live their lives.   The lives that were so heartlessly snatched from them. For what?

_“Why’s life have to be so hard, Shepherd?”_

_“It doesn’t always have to be.”_

_“Yeah, but Tracey, it was hard for him. Hard for his family. Don’t seem right. Weren’t no good reason he had to die like he did.”_

_Book sighed, settling down into his chair. “People get lost, Kaylee. They just need to find their way back.”_

_“Back to what?”_

_“Back to living life right.”_

_“Bible right?”_

_“I like to think so, but there’s right and wrong in this ‘verse no matter whose word you follow. People should know which is which.”_

_“My daddy says not much good ever comes from the bible.”_

_He smiled not taking offense at her words. “People have twisted it but the core value is there. Love, forgiveness, kindness to other people.”_

_“I ain’t seein’ a lot of kindness, Shepherd.” She looked up at the ceiling trying to gather her thoughts. Even before she knew Tracey as a person  and thought he was just a stiff, something about him made her sad. “But, why do bad things happen to people? People who try to live right and proper.”_

_“That’s a question people have been trying to answer for centuries. I believe one must put faith in something greater than one’s self. That’s why belief is so important.”_

_“Cap’n fought for something he believed in. Now look at him.”_

_“He’ll find his way back.” Book smiled to himself in a way that Kaylee felt left out of some private joke. “Worse men have.”_

_“Just can’t understand why bad things have to happen, you know? Why some people hurt others who don’t mean them any harm. Life is hard enough as it is, why do people have to make it harder?”_

_“When I find out, I’ll let you know.”_

_“That why you left the abbey? To find answers?”_

_“Partly. It’s easy to find peace and solace with people who are of like minds. But I have questions that need answering myself. Questions that can’t be answered in the beautiful confines of the abbey.”_

_“What kind of questions?”_

_He hesitated, pulling his bible to his chest. “I’m trying to figure that out, too.”_

Guess Shepherd Book would never find answers to whatever questions he had. Simon said that his last words to the Captain had been about belief. Captain followed those words and now here they all were in the black trying to put their lives back together. Trying to make sense of the evil that some find it so easy to inflict on others. Trying to understand how a whole world of people died without anyone noticing.

Kaylee's anger flared as she thought about the government blaming early Independent factions for releasing the Pax.  Terrorists, they'd called them. Well, the Alliance managed to drive out any victory, slight as it was, from the Captain and Zoë with their talk of Independent terrorists. Kaylee didn’t know too many Core folks but the ones she did know were smart. She hoped the rest were as smart as Simon and Inara and could recognize the stink of the story as gao pi. 

Taking a last look at the engine, Kaylee walked out and headed to the galley. Tonight was her night to cook and, suddenly, she wanted the meal to go right. Ever since the last disastrous dinner, the only conversation around the table was between Inara and her. Not tonight, she vowed to herself. 

Kaylee walked up to the bridge and peeked in. The Captain was leaning back in the pilot’s chair staring at the black. It was, in fact, the same thing he had been doing the last time she checked on him as well as the time before that. Sometimes when she found him like that, she would go in and try to cheer him up. He would smile at her but the smile never made it to his eyes. She had seen it before, she reminded herself, a true smile from the Captain she just couldn’t remember the when. Shrugging slightly, she turned away; she wasn’t ready to try her hand at cheering him up.

As she walked back down the hallway, her fingers lightly touched her lights which she hadn’t turned on today. She climbed down into her bunk and turned them chiding herself for feeling the lights were silly.   When she stepped back outside her bunk, she looked at her simple string of lights and smiled. Her smile grew wider as she remembered the last time the Captain had laughed, truly laughed. It had been when the sep tank malfunctioned and Simon had been the unlucky recipient of the rain of sewage in the passenger head. Mal had laughed, not as much as Wash or Jayne, but he had a good honest chuckle. 

“What’re you grinnin’ at?” Zoë asked as they met at the top of the stairs leading down to the main hold.

“Member when Simon got caked with the sep?” Good times, those were. Wash couldn’t look at Simon with a straight face for a week though he hadn’t said anything mean, not like Jayne who sniffed loudly and made rude remarks whenever he saw Simon. Kaylee had complained to Zoë and the ribbing had stopped. Jayne kept his mouth shut and Wash kept his laughter to himself but sometimes she’d catch the captain smiling to himself remembering. 

“Wash couldn’t stop laughing every time he saw him," Zoë said smiling at the memory. "Never thought I’d hear the end of his caca jokes.” 

“That did tickle him so. He and Jayne finally found something in common.”

“That was the scariest part! Told them to lay off which they did. At least around me.” She smiled again squeezing Kaylee’s shoulder and turned to walk away. Kaylee hoped she was heading to the bridge to talk to the Captain but Zoë opened the hatch to her bunk.    

“Dinner’s in an hour,” Kaylee called out to her. 

“I’ll be there,” Zoë said climbing down.   

The sound of the hatch closing prompted Kaylee to move on but her step was lighter as she made her way down the stairs to the cargo bay. She was not surprised to find Jayne lifting weights. 

“Tonight’s my night for dinner. You’ll be there, right?” She asked walking over to his bench.

“Gotta eat, don’t I?” He sounded grouchy. Of course, of late he was always on the grouchy side. “‘Sides, food’s all I’m gettin’ out of this deal.”

“Any prospects?” A smallish dumbbell lay on the floor caught her eye. She picked it up and started doing curls. 

“Mal knows a guy. I’m thinkin’ it’s someone he prefers not to do business with but he thinks we got a shot. Seems the man’s got his hand in all sorts of nefarity.”

“Still, it’s a lead, ain’t it?”

“Will be until Mal screws it up somehow.” Jayne lay back on the bench. Moving the dumbbell to her other hand, she watched him bench press.

“He’s doing everything he can.”

“Maybe he should’ve thought of that before.”

She glared at him and put the dumbbell back on the floor. “I’m sick of that, Jayne. Can’t be blaming the Captain for all our problems.”

“I can’t?” Sitting up, he grabbed a towel and ran it over the back of his neck. “Kaylee, if word gets out that the Sanchez’s and Lin and god knows who else got killed on account of us, we’re finished. Might as well move to the Core.”

“That wouldn’t be so bad,” her mind indulged in a brief fantasy of Core life.

“So says you with your pretty boyfriend. Think he’d stick around if he didn’t have that noose of a sister ‘round his neck? Think just ‘cause the ‘Liance ain’t posting wants for them that they’re in the clear?”

“But it’s good, right? No notices means no feds.”

“Yeah, doc sticks around here cause he’s all free and clear.” He picked up the dumbbell she had discarded and added more weight. “He ain’t stupid. Someone spent a lot of time and money on her brain. Somebody’s lookin’ for her and the doc knows it.” Jayne started his set of curls watching his bicep with each movement. “Ain’t cause you’re good in the sack.”

“Just cause you’re feelin’ mean don’t give you the right to be nasty to me,” she said angry at his words. Jayne wasn’t saying anything that Kaylee hadn’t thought of herself. 

“Ain’t bein’ mean, Kaylee. You gotta keep your wits about you with that one. You lose your heart and I guarantee you’ll lose your whole damn head.”

“Well, that’s my problem,” Kaylee said walking toward the common area. “And, at dinner, try to be nice to him.”

“I ain’t paid to be nice to yer boyfriend.” He set down the dumbbell and looked ponderous. “Wait, I ain’t gettin’ paid at all.”

She stopped just before the steps leading down to the common area. “Ain’t his fault, Jayne,” she said softly. “Zoë doesn’t think it’s their fault.”

“She might not blame them but don’t you know she wishes like hell she’d never laid eyes on the pair?”

River's head peeked down from the catwalk above Jayne's workout bench. Jayne shot her a glare but continued with his curls. Not sparing him a look, she jumped down and walked directly to Kaylee. “Do you think the Captain will let me go outside? If I put a spacesuit on?”

“No.”

“That’s what Simon said,” River said frowning. She looked over at Jayne as if just realizing he was there. “You would, wouldn’t you, Jayne?”

“I wouldn’t even make you wear a suit,” he said starting a new set.

“Cobb’s a salad.”

Jayne rolled his eyes. “Can’t you do something ‘bout her? Trying to concentrate here.”

River looked at him for a moment before turning her eyes to Kaylee. Kaylee looked back at her waiting for River to say something. Instead of talking, River turned and headed toward the side of the hold. She started pulling on the grate that hid one of their many smuggling crannies. 

“What are you doing, River?” Kaylee asked.

“Probably saw a pink bunny fly in there,” Jayne said.

“Need to be in here,” River said finally succeeding in pulling off the grate.

“Honey, you wanna come to dinner tonight?” Kaylee asked ignoring Jayne’s disdainful sniff. “It’d be real nice if you were there.” 

“I’m going to hide in here.”

“Good plan,” Jayne said. He walked over to the nook as River crawled in. “Here, let me close that up for ya.” He pushed the grate back in place with more force than necessary. He grinned at Kaylee. “Didn’t seal it or nothin’. Genius like her’s bound to figure a way out.”

“It’s okay, Kaylee,” River called from her hiding place. “Thank you, Girl Salad.”

“She talkin’ to me?”

Kaylee favored him with an irritated look. “Just be on time and clean up some. I got somethin’ special planned.” She didn’t wait for his response. 

Walking down the steps to the common area, she saw Simon and Inara through the med bay window. Their heads were close together as they leaned over the counter looking at something. Simon was pointing at something on his datapad. She walked around the corner to go inside and see what they were up to but stopped. The Captain was standing outside the other window watching them and looking angry. Well, angrier than usual.

Kaylee smiled before walking up to him. “Gotta need?” She asked innocently.

“What?”

She smiled again enjoying his discomfort. “Medical problem?”

Inara looked back in their direction giving them an absent smile. Simon, too, looked back but he did a double take at seeing Mal standing next to her. He quickly stepped away from Inara. 

Kaylee looked up at the Captain interested in seeing his reaction to Simon's stupidity. Mal glanced down at her seeming to understand her amusement at his expense. He gave her a glare and walked back up the stairs. 

“Is he mad?” Simon asked coming up behind her.

“When ain’t he?” Kaylee countered. She gave him a quick kiss. “Next time, sweetie, try not to look so guilty.”

“I wasn’t…” Simon stammered. “We weren’t…”

“Relax, Simon. Cap’n’s just prone to thinkin’ ill of everyone at the moment.”

“Well, I don’t need him thinking any worse of me than he already does.”

“He’s really thinking worse of himself and you’re just an easy target,” Inara said standing in the doorway to the med bay.

Kaylee nodded in agreement and gave him a hug. “Don’t worry, Simon. Things’ll get better. Can’t get any worse can they?”

Simon gave her an incredulous look but said, “No, I guess not.”

“I got high hopes for dinner tonight,” Kaylee said.

Simon looked depressed at the thought of dinner. “Where’s River?”

“She said somethin’ ‘bout going outside.”

Simon’s eyes grew wide as he pushed past her rushing into the cargo bay.

“That was mean,” Inara said watching Simon’s hasty exit.

“Can’t help myself. Easy mark that he is,” Kaylee said grinning. “You two workin’ on ways to help River’s brain?”

“Simon was just explaining to me all the biological reasons meditation will not help River.”

“Oh, no! Doctors rely too much on medicine and forget other things might help. My mama believed in the power of the mind. She said her Aunt Flora once cured herself of eczema by thinkin’ real hard.”

“Well, hopefully, meditation can help River think hard about one thing at a time," Inara said glancing into the cargo bay. "Honestly, I can’t see that it would hurt. Even though River’s brain has been physically tampered with she might learn to have better control of her own mind.”

“That mean you’re staying? We can pick up your stuff and…be like we once were.” Kaylee’s hopeful tone trailed off as she looked down at the floor knowing that nothing would ever be as it once was.

Inara smiled twining a stray tendril behind Kaylee’s ear. “Is it your night for dinner?”

“Yeah, guess what’s on the menu?”

“Saag Paneer?”

“If that means protein, then the answer’s yes.”

* * *

 

“…So I just conjured that I’d mix a little secret ingredient with the protein.” Kaylee looked around at the table hoping someone, other than Inara, would ask her about the secret ingredient. Everyone, except River, was present but that didn’t mean there would be storytelling and laughing. No, not with this bunch. 

Inara, with a conspiratorial nod to Kaylee, said, “I don’t know what your secret ingredient is but this protein is really good. Simon, what do you think the secret ingredient is?”

Simon looked embarrassed to be addressed but, always the gentleman, he offered a lame answer. “Salt?”

“Good guess, but no.” Kaylee beamed, hopeful that this one meal together would not be so painfully uncomfortable. “It’s somethin’ fancier than that. Come on, Simon, with your fine tastes I bet you can sort it out.”

Simon took another bite. “Uh, pepper?” He then gave Kaylee a look that clearly said _Please stop_. 

“Nope, that’s not it neither.” Kaylee turned her smiling face to the other side of the table. “Does anyone else have any notions?”

Silence. Kaylee’s smile faltered as she looked down the table where Mal, Zoë, and Jayne sat. Each kept their attention on their plate not giving the slightest indication that they heard her. 

“Tough crowd here, Kaylee," Inara said looking around the table. No one looked up to meet her glance. "It seems everyone is too _bei can_ to compliment you on your tasty meal. If I were you, I would consider letting someone else take over the cooking duties. How about you, Jayne?”

“Jayne’s got a job on this boat,” Mal answered finally meeting her eyes. He made a show of taking a bite of protein and drinking his water. Kaylee's optimism about the meal sank. “While we’re on the subject of jobs what exactly is yours now?” 

Inara gazed at the Captain projecting an aura of tranquility. “I suppose my job is to wait until you have enough funds to fuel the ship so I can return to the Training House.”

“You’re getting free passage in our best passenger dorm. And, might I add, eatin’ Kaylee’s ‘tasty’ meals. Don’t exactly welcome freeloaders on this boat.”

“Are you asking me for money, Mal?” Her look was challenging.  Kaylee wished she would stop talking.   “You would be right to do so since I understand you have no [jiāo](http://www.mdbg.net/chindict/chindict.php?page=worddictbasic&wdqb=business&wdrst=0&go=Search&wddmtm=1#) [yì](http://www.mdbg.net/chindict/chindict.php?page=worddictbasic&wdqb=business&wdrst=0&go=Search&wddmtm=1#) on the horizon.” 

Mal set down his chopsticks and stared at her. Kaylee knew he was working on something mean and she also knew he was about to utter a word that he used when his back was against a wall.

“I’m just a little curious about your own monetary situation,” Mal said. “Jayne, how much money does a whore make standing on her feet with her clothes on?”

“Don’t draw me into this,” Jayne warned.

“What Jayne means is a whore who ain’t on her back is one destitute prostitute.”

“Mal...” “Cap’n!” Jayne and Kaylee both spoke up only to be interrupted by Mal’s slamming his hand hard on the table. Everyone but Zoë jumped a little at the harsh sound.

“[Zhù](http://www.mdbg.net/chindict/chindict.php?page=worddictbasic&wdqb=shut+up&wdrst=0&go=Search&wddmtm=1#) [zuǐ](http://www.mdbg.net/chindict/chindict.php?page=worddictbasic&wdqb=shut+up&wdrst=0&go=Search&wddmtm=1#)!” Mal glared at Inara. “Don’t you sit there and criticize me, Inara.”

“I’m not criticizing you, Mal! It’s just…Everyone is so adrift… I just want to help.” 

“Help? Are you offering the whorin’ kind of help? I must admit that a little [jiāo](http://www.mdbg.net/chindict/chindict.php?page=worddictbasic&wdqb=sex&wdrst=0&go=Search&wddmtm=1#) [gòu](http://www.mdbg.net/chindict/chindict.php?page=worddictbasic&wdqb=sex&wdrst=0&go=Search&wddmtm=1#) don’t sound too bad, does it, Jayne? Tell you what, we can work up an exchange for your room and board. In fact, we’ll post a notice announcing that you have finally deigned to service the crew. In our best interests, of course. How do we decide who goes first? I got an idea, we can ---”

“Enough!” Zoë fixed a defiant look at Mal.

“Zoë…” Mal began.

Zoë stood and gazed into Mal’s eyes. When she finally spoke, her words were soft but deadly. “Don’t you be causin’ us to lose someone else.”

Mal reacted as if he’d been gut punched but he didn’t look away. Zoë held his gaze for a few seconds then turned and left. The sound of her bunk door closing echoed through the mess.

Mal slowly rose from the table. All the fight was out of him. He looked to Inara and murmured “I’m sorry” then turned and walked out.

Inara was thoroughly shaken. “Kaylee, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean…” With an apologetic shake of her head, she, too, turned and hurriedly left.

“Yep. Dinner conversin’ is real fun. Ain’t you through bein’ stupid about this?” Jayne snarled. He stormed off to his bunk leaving Kaylee and Simon alone.

“Simon…” Kaylee placed her hand on his. He met her gaze. She could see the guilt plain as day. “Simon, you did the right thing. We all did the right thing. Wash chose to do the right thing.”

“Shepherd Book and all those people at Haven?”

“Simon…”

Simon pulled his hand away.   Giving Kaylee a helpless look, he walked out leaving her alone.

Tears streaming down her face, Kaylee said to the empty room; “It was soy sauce."


	4. Mal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mal works to find a job.

Everyone had become accustomed to strapping themselves in for Mal's landings so it was no surprise when Serenity set down with an ungainly jolt. On his first landing, a particularly fine bottle of rye whiskey that Jayne had been saving fell and broke. Jayne groused about it to Mal but the merc’s heart hadn’t been in it. That was then. Now, Jayne didn’t require the flimsiest of reasons to communicate to Mal his deep ire.

Mal cursed as the ship lurched again. He had entered the wrong sequence and Serenity dragged a bit before coming to a full stop. Unstrapping the shoulder harness, he leaned up to look out the window. Not seeing a flurry of activity which would indicate he had hit something, he sat back down breathing a sigh of relief. He paid more attention, though, as he entered the post flight sequence and powered down the engines. Kaylee would give him another earful for his less than careful treatment of Serenity. Her tirade would be punctuated by the River-could-be-the-pilot look which he would respond with his I'm-the-Captain-and-it's-none-of-your-gorramn-business look.

The kid had seemed promising, that was a fact, but now wasn’t the time for her to assume pilot detail. The subject of the pilot situation had been broached exactly once and when Zoë first heard about the possibility of River becoming the new pilot, she had just stared at him. Stared at him for several long uncomfortable moments before offering a most diplomatic response: “Ain’t exactly comfortable with our lives in her hands.”

"I get that,” Mal replied, looking down at her boots. “She's a flair for it, though.” He had thought that the subject was over but when he looked up, he caught an unmistakable flash of naked betrayal in her eyes. Her look had shot right through him; it was not a look he ever thought to be receiving from Zoë.

River had showed up in the bridge once more before silently slipping out. Mal figured it was good the kid was a reader - saved him the trouble of having to tell her his own self. The situation didn't sit right with him; he wasn't in the business of dashing whatever hopes and dreams went through her head. But Zoë…Had to respect that.

A green light popped on indicating that Serenity was fully powered down. Mal had once neglected to check on that light and hopped out of his seat prematurely only to be summarily bounced down the forward steps. Kaylee’s anger at his thoughtlessness was truly a sight to see. While she may have been justified in her anger, Mal didn't like being lectured about his own ship. He had yelled back at her and he was a far better yeller than she could ever hope to be. She had stalked off glaring at him and he knew that once his back had turned she had bestowed upon him an offensive hand signal. That he let slide.

Mal got up from the pilot's seat and headed for his bunk where he quickly began assembling the necessarily paraphernalia required for a meet with Lester Fenwick. Problem was, he hadn’t exactly been invited. He was relying heavily on the notion that Fen usually had something in the works that he needed outside assistance with. More often than not, Fen's works consisted of jobs of a more dangerous nature than Mal liked. Jobs that skirted too close to branches of the crime world Mal had gone to great lengths to avoid. Contrary to popular opinion, there really was a limit to how low he’d sink.

Or was there? He pondered the idea as he tied his holster to his leg. Position he was in, if Fen had a job, Mal couldn’t see how he could turn it down. A captain couldn’t be discriminating with a ship running on empty, water close to dried up, and a hungry crew who hadn't been paid since Lilac. Not to mention the hungry loan shark who would most certainly be calling if he didn't tender coin in the near future. Checking his weapon, he wondered how long he had before Sunny unleashed her dogs. She may talk nice and try to be friendly but she liked her money more than she liked him.

He slid a long, thin knife in his boot, grabbed his coat and climbed out of his bunk. Entering the hold, Mal paused at the catwalk before descending the stairs. From his vantage point, it appeared that Zoë and Jayne were…chatting. As if they were conducting an actual conversation. Then Jayne cackled and Zoë gave him a disapproving look making Mal feel better.

"Still not sure if it's a good idea to try for business with Fenwick." Zoë said to Mal as she inspected her Mare's Leg. “Man makes me jumpy.”

“Just don’t know him as I do. Fen and I go way back.” The meet with Fen was unsettling him; felt too much like begging but Serenity was close to fuming and he couldn’t go carting across the galaxy looking for work. They were here, Fen was here. "I'm confident."

"Well, that makes one of us," Jayne said, sliding on his coat.

"You're welcome to stay on Serenity." Mal turned and faced Jayne. "Or off, if you're of a mind to." Mal's bluster usually won over Jayne's brawn and today was no exception.

"We need the mule?" Jayne asked by way of changing the subject.

Mal shook his head not only letting Jayne know that they didn't need the mule but also to convey his disgust at the yellowness of his merc. Mal wished Jayne would actually follow through on some of the menace he'd been putting out as of late. He needed someone to fight with other than Inara. Of late, their arguments had taken a decided turn toward nasty. And not the good kind, either.

He glanced back as he heard the sound of Serenity's airlock opening. Kaylee stood by the controls waiting for Inara to join her. Without a look in his direction, they linked arms and strolled out.

"Be back in an hour, we may have to get goin'." Mal called after them. "Got a com, don't ya?"

They paused turning their heads to look back at him. The look they gave him was unsurprisingly icy. They exchanged a glance as if trying to decide who had to be the one to answer him. Kaylee seemed to be the loser of the silent debate. "Yeah, Cap'n," she said turning back around. She whispered something to Inara and broke out in a fit of giggles. Inara smiled indulgently at Kaylee but she gave Mal a brief, contrite look over her shoulder.

Her look made him feel all the more worse about the things he had said to her at that last dinner. He watched her and Kaylee walk toward to marketplace their shoulders bumping together as they walked. Looking back, he saw Zoë and Jayne waiting for him. He looked beyond them and saw Simon standing by the door to the common area.

 “Looks like the ship is yours, doc,” he called out to him. Simon just looked at him blankly. Mal turned back to Zoë and Jayne. "Alright, let's do this thing."

* * *

Mal, Zoë, and Jayne weaved their way through the crowded market district of Little Yangon. Like many of the border planets, the trade center wasn’t on par with those on Core planets or even Persephone or Beaumonde. Still, folks had a need to trade their wares and on the Western Province of Liann Juin, this was the place to do it. The wares being traded were on the pitiful side. Whatever vegetation that was to be found looked limp and brown and not at all appetizing.

They walked through a mass of makeshift tents where people had set up their temporary homes. Many people who frequented this city were either just arriving or trying to get the hell off. The problem was most had spent whatever money they had to get here and once finding work was scarce and the land was infertile, they had little options in the way of leaving.

Mal stopped at an intersection getting his bearings. He looked around until he was satisfied they were going the right way. Jayne and Zoë followed him as he led them down an increasingly decrepit residential street. The houses were a garden variety of scrapped together homes. Most were constructed of mud but a few had made use of spare ship parts.

They kept to one side of the dirt street until Mal stopped in front of a house. Someone had made an effort to beautify the mud structure by painting the house green but many rains had blended most of the paint into the hardened mud and the result was an unappealing greenish, brownish streaky mess.

Mal looked at the house trying to remember if this was the right one. His eye fell on a man who was sitting on the porch watching his scrutiny. The man stood up resting his hand on the gun at his hip. Looks like this was the right place.

“I’m here to see Fen,” Mal called out, walking toward the man. Mal judged the man to be about thirty. He had brown hair and brown eyes and wore brown pants and a brown shirt. Tossed over a chair lay the man’s brown coat. Mal and Zoë exchanged a glance and she gave a slight shake of her head; she didn’t think the man was an Independent either. Just a boring dresser.

“You got an appointment?”

Appointment? “Yeah,” Mal said trying to keep the contemptuous amusement from his voice. “Name’s Malcolm Reynolds. I believe I’ve got a three o’clock appointment.”

The man looked at his watch. “You’re early.”

Mal offered what he hoped to be a bright, friendly smile. “Early bird, you know?”

“Wait here.”

“Appointment?” Jayne asked incredulously after the man disappeared into the house.

“What kinda crook is this?”

“The kind that don’t like people comin’ in unannounced,” Zoë replied giving Mal a look before glancing around. She did not look at all happy with their situation.

Another man sauntered out of the house. He was younger than the first and had the look of someone who thought too highly of himself. His red shirt, unbuttoned half-way down his chest, was tightly tucked into his tight-around-the-important-areas black trousers. His black hair shone with whatever hair product was necessary to keep it perfectly coiffed. He sized up Mal and Jayne giving them a hostile look but as his eyes turned to Zoë, his demeanor changed considerably.

“How you doin’?” He asked walking down the step toward her. He smiled a stupid, flirty smile.

Zoë gave him an impatient look. “Be doin’ better if we were in there.”

“You here to see Fen?”

“Yep.” 

“Well, come on!” He gave her a wide, welcoming grin and gestured her to come up to the house with him. “I’m JT, and you're fine."

"Think you can get us in, JT?" Zoë asked with zero flirtation in her voice.

JT seemed not to notice her less than enthusiastic reception to his attention. “For you, anything.” He held the door open for her. Mal and Jayne started to follow but JT didn’t hold the door for them. Jayne reached out and caught the door before it slammed shut.

They followed JT and Zoë down a hall that opened into a kitchen. JT grabbed a banana off the table offering it to Zoë. She gazed at him steadily not taking the fruit.

“Sure?” JT said with a leer. 

Zoë continued to stare at him.

JT shrugged and put it back on the table. He walked through another door. Following behind, Jayne grabbed the banana as well as a muffin that was alongside and put them in his pocket. 

They walked through an open doorway onto a small porch. A small dusty yard littered with trash greeted them. An old, frayed woman was sitting on a rocking chair knitting. She didn’t look up as they passed her on their way to another building in the back.

“Afternoon, Miz Fenwick,” JT drawled. She made an irritated sound still not looking up.

JT opened the door to a small metal structure and gestured for Zoë to enter. This time, he held the door for Jayne and Mal glaring at them as they walked through.

Whatever conversations had been going on ceased immediately as the others in the room realized their private space had been intruded upon. One tall slender man, clad in faded blue coveralls, looked their direction. Lester Fenwick glared at Mal for a few moments before releasing his hold on the collar of the man from the front door.

"Well, hell!” Fen said, pushing the man against the flimsy wall. He scrunched his grey eyes as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing. "Trav, here, told me you were wanting a meet but I almost shot him for lying to me.”

Mal straightened as he took in the eight thuggish types littered about the room. He stepped forward unsure of what Fen was angry about.

“You got a lotta nerve showing your face around here," the older man snarled. At his words, Mal heard the very distinctive sound of weapons being cocked. He reached out a hand motioning to Jayne not to draw his gun and didn’t miss the quick look Jayne threw to Zoë for confirmation.

"How you figure that?" Mal ran through the list of comrades the Operative had killed but couldn’t think of a connection between them and Fen.

"I introduced you.” Fen said walking slowly to Mal. “Vouched for you." He stopped. “Fanty and Mingo. Up and dead – the both of them! Bodies turned up in the great Salty. You know how that makes me look?”

Fanty and Mingo? Mal swore at himself - he should have suspected it since they never came calling for what they believed was their additional share of the Lilac take. In truth, he had steered clear of them afraid they would request their money to be repaid. “I didn’t know they were dead.”

“You didn’t, did you?” Fen’s red face was getting redder. He took another step closer to Mal until their faces were inches apart. “Their man said they disappeared no more than a couple of days after you had words over a job.”

“Weren’t us.”

“Weren’t it?” Fen mocked Mal’s speech. Fen was as much a Rimmer as Mal but Fen considered himself a city man thus better than the rurals. “Wouldn’t be the first time you decided you didn’t want to share the booty.”

Mal’s eyes narrowed. He wasn’t expecting to be hit up with this story. He couldn’t resist glancing back at his crew. Zoë looked angry. Jayne looked confused.

“Big man,” Fen called to Jayne. “Didn’t you know how your 'honorable' captain came about that boat of his? It’s a sordid tale of greed, to be sure. Fine job set up by Walton but not a one man came out of that alive.” He turned his attention back to Mal. “Except you. With all that money. And not a week went by before you bought your junker. Did I hear wrong?”

"Never bothered you in the past."

"Well, it's bothering me now."

“You got a job for us or not?”

“I sure as hell don’t,” Fen said moving away.

Mal debated on the best approach to take. Tricky thing begging without appearing to beg. If Fen smelled desperation they would really have trouble. “In truth, Fen, we did not kill Fanty and Mingo."

“Oh, well,” Fen drawled. “If you say so!” But his eyes showed some doubt. He motioned for his people to lower their weapons. "I don't like you, Reynolds. And the only reason you’re still standing here is my mother won’t be happy if I get blood on her carpet.”

Mal looked down at the threadbare rug that encompassed the small room. Once upon a time, it may have been pretty. “Don’t have to go like this. We’re just in the neighborhood and heard you might be lookin’ for crew to take care of some business.” He hadn’t heard any such thing but no need in Fen thinking they were begging.

“Heard from who?” Fen asked but he didn’t wait for an answer. He pointed a finger and jabbed Mal in the chest. “Don’t you ever show your face around here again. You're trouble.”

“The good kind of trouble, right?" Mal tried for a little PR. "The kind of trouble a businessman looks for in his…contractors.”

“Are you trying to aggravate me more than I already am? Best walk on out of here before I decide I don’t care if I make Mama mad.”

Mal looked around the room. Several of the men stood up to emphasize Fen’s point.

“JT!” Fen bellowed. “If you weren’t my new girlfriend’s kid I’d scald your ass. Show ‘em out!” He crossed his arms and glared at Mal. “The back way.”

* * *

“Is that what everybody thinks?” Jayne asked as they walked down a narrow alley behind the row of houses. “That we killed them? Makes no kinda sense at all.”

“It does actually,” Zoë said. “They were killed on account of us.”

“Yeah, but they don’t know it. It’s circumcision is what it is. Can’t convict on that.”

“Don’t matter. It is our fault,” Mal said. They reached a clearing and Mal stopped. He put his hand to his forehead trying to massage away the coming headache.

Jayne and Zoë hung back watching him pace a circle. Fen was his last resort for the type of respectable crime he preferred committing. There was worse out there. Helluva lot worse. Tito wasn’t too far off but the thought of going that route pained him. Drug running was something he vowed he’d never get into. He looked up and met Zoë's worried eyes. He shook his head; his options were running out fast. He truly didn’t believe things would get this bad for them. Should have expected it, though; luck was not something that smiled on him.

“I know what you’re thinkin’,” she said softly, walking toward him.

“You comin’ up with any ideas?" Mal ran a hand through his hair. Zoë glanced back at Jayne who appeared as if he had something to say. Mal walked up to him. "How ‘bout you, Jayne?”

Jayne straightened, looming over him. Mal didn’t back down.

"Yes I do," Jayne said, looking down at him. "Passengers, Mal." He gestured toward the town center. "There's a mess of people dyin' to get outta this hellhole."

"We really want to subject some innocent people to…us?" Zoë asked.

"Inara and Kaylee can entertain them. Everyone else can go about their business."

Mal shook his head. Last bunch of passengers he took on proved a mite troublesome.

"Ain't all gonna be fugies, Mal," Jayne said. "At least we can get enough to fuel the ship."

"Don't think it's the way to go, Jayne," Mal said.

"Why the hell--"

"'Cause we still don't know where we’re at with the feds, Jayne," Zoë said. "Think our hands need more blood on’m?"

"Oh," Jayne looked defeated.

“Excuse me?” A voice from behind them called out.

They turned to see one of the Fen’s guys approaching. He was about fortyish with brown hair liberally streaked with grey. He wore faded jeans and a well-worn tan shirt. A thick scar ran alongside the right side of his face.

“Hey, I might got somethin’ for ya’ll,” he said, limping toward Zoë and Mal.

“Oh yeah? What’s that?” Mal asked.

“A guy out of Three Hills is needing a solid crew. He and Fen had a falling out so it’s not like I’m going behind his back. But he’s a friend of mine and I know he’s been lookin’ for someone.”

“Why ain’t you all over this?” Jayne asked, looking down at him. “You settin’ us up?”

The man looked surprised. “No. Hell no. It’s just… There's an element of danger, that's a certainty. Not sure about the particulars but, ya’ll look like you can handle yourselves.”

“Still ain’t seeing the why of you tracking us down for good news,” Mal said.

“The name’s Stanislaw Kotkiewicz.” He offered his hand to Mal. “I was with the 67th Infantry.”

Surprised, Mal took the proffered hand. He could have kicked himself for not realizing who the man was. Usually, he prided himself on instantly spotting another Browncoat. 

“We gotta stick together somehow,” Stanislaw said. “I had you two pegged for some ‘Coats the moment I laid eyes on you.”

 “With the 67th, huh?" Zoë asked. "Which unit?”

 “Roscoe Huang’s.”

 She nodded, recognizing the name. “Still in prison?”

 “Ain’t sure. Heard a rumor the Purplebellies finally released the officers.” He spat on the ground. “Good will and all.”

 “You know Nguyen? Ambrose Nguyen?”

 “I did.”

 “Did?”

 “Cameroon Sands.”

 “Oh, hell.”

 “No picnic, that’s for sure. You knew him?”

 “We started out together," Zoë said. "Knew him from my first assignment after basic. Good man. Family man.” She turned away, looking out at the street shaking her head.

Mal remembered why he hated running into army acquaintances. Never was good news to be gleaned.

 “About this guy…” Mal said.

 “Name’s Oklahoma Burnside. He’s out at Three Hills.”

 Three Hills. That was a ways from here. He tried to figure out if they had enough fuel to get there. “Hate to make that trip for nothing.”

 “Yeah. I’ll wave him and tell him to expect your call. I’ll vouch for ya’ll.” He scribbled an address on a scrap of paper and handed it to Mal.

 Mal stared at the wave address trying to stifle the pitiful rush of gratitude swelling in him. He looked back up at Stanislaw inexplicably not wanting the man to think ill of him. “In earnest, we didn’t kill Fanty and Mingo. There was a dispute about money, that’s true, but that ain’t how we operate.”

 “I get that,” Stanislaw nodded seeming to understand. “It’s just Fen’s been upset about them. They owed him money.”

* * *

Mal had taken the last of the cash he had and fueled up Serenity which left him well and truly broke. He barely had enough to cover the fuel needed to get them to Three Hill but they were headed for a job and he was more than willing to shell out the last of his coin. Three days to Three Hills. He hoped the prospect of a real job might ease some of the tensions that had been weighing heavily on the crew.

 After clearing atmo and charting their course for Three Hills, Mal settled back to his favorite pastime of watching the black. His eye was drawn to a light indicating that someone was on the Cortex in Shuttle 1. He watched until the light blinked off. Without thinking, he jumped up and headed down to the catwalk outside the shuttle. Leaning against the railing, he looked down at the dark and empty cargo hold and waited for her.

 Inara stepped out looking surprised to see him there. They looked at each other for a moment both remembering the last words exchanged between them.

 "Movin' back to your old ways?" He asked casually.

 “Hardly,” she said, joining him at the railing. “I was just on the Cortex.”

 He wanted to ask who she was speaking to but wasn’t prepared for her answer. "Thinking 'bout renting her again," he said, lightly jerking his head in the direction of the shuttle. He gave her a small smile - it was the best in the way of an apology he could give her.

 "Really?" she said, smiling back at him. "That prospector still interested?"

 Seeing her here outside her shuttle brought back memories of better days on Serenity. Except, she looked different. Her expensive finery was gone, replaced by some lovely but simple confections she had picked up on Persephone. She looked…approachable.

 “Talk to Sunny recently?”

 As he knew it would, her smile vanished.

 “What?”

 “She told me you offered to pay,” Mal said sounding less harsh than he had intended. He’d played this conversation over in his head countless times since Sunny told him about Inara’s offer. The conversations always ended with her saying she was sorry and promising never to disobey him again. “And, here I am remembering me telling you to keep your gorramn money.”

 “Pardon me for trying to save your life.”

 She never said anything like that in his fantasy conversation. “Ain’t asking anything from you. I can save my life on my own.”

 “Can you?” She asked looking at him before turning her gaze to the cargo bay. “I remember several times you couldn’t.”

 “Did it never enter your mind that it would be best not to give the crazy killer your address?” This time he sounded far harsher than he had intended.

 “What address?” Inara asked, looking up at the ceiling. “I have an address?”

 There was something behind her words that caught his attention. It was a curiosity to him her apparent estrangement from the Guild. He hadn’t asked but the fact that she was still here couldn’t be helping with her standing with the Companion’s Guild. He’d hauled her out of the Training House over two months ago.

 “Not a good idea, Inara,” he said, gazing down at her. She was still looking away from him giving him the opportunity to look his fill.

 “Why is it so difficult for you to accept help?” Her voice was soft but she didn’t look up at him. “You’ll steal someone’s money but you won’t take what I’m freely offering.”

Freely offering? His hands gripped the railing tighter as his mind played over her words. His mind was threatening to take him somewhere he had no business going. “Thought nothing from a Companion comes free.”

 “What are we talking about?” She looked up finally trying to meet his eyes. They gazed at each other for a moment. He couldn't gage not a whit what was going through her head.

 “Me not taking your money,” Mal said, looking away from her.

 “Well, I guess it doesn’t matter now.”

 “What matters is your damned interfering. Ain’t your business.”

 “You made it my business when you took me out of the Training House.”

 “I should’ve left you there?" The woman could talk nonsense with the best of them. "I think you have some idea what probably would have happened.” He thought of Haven and then conjured an image of the Training House meeting the same fate.

 “You checked with yours, did you?” He asked softly.

 “They’re all fine.”

 As it was, she looked so very lovely. Her long, dark hair was loose and not perfectly fixed. She no longer favored the make-up that defined her as a Core woman. She looked beautiful in a pretty way. And her pretty enticed him more than her refined beautiful.

 “Hate to be the cause of interruptus of whore lessons. Hope this episode didn’t keep those girls from crucial kǒu jiāo lessons.”

 Inara stared at him, all traces of softness in her eyes gone. “You are amazing, Mal. Really unbelievable.” She started to walk down the stairs but turned back to him. He crossed his arms waiting for her to continue. “You really do need to come up with more ammunition, Captain. As it is, your reliance on the whoring thing is becoming rather pathetic.”

 “I got rules on this boat, Inara,” he said, pointing his finger at her. “No one goes behind my back for anything. Maybe can’t expect a woman in your line of work to understand—"

 “Nobody dies in my line of work,” she interrupted looking at him defiantly.

 They glared at each other each unable to understand how things always went so wrong.

 “Well, they do in mine. Best you stay the hell out of it, dong ma?” They looked at each other for a few moments more. “My boat, my rules.”

 She tilted her head as if deferring to his request then straightened and gave him a salute. It was a perfectly executed salute, too. One that Mal never gave nor ever received but the kind he’d seen officers give to their superiors. Alliance officers. His eyes narrowed not liking the thought of how she could be so well acquainted with military gestures. She looked startled as if she’d given too much away. Without another word, she turned and descended the stairs.

 “You make her mad again?” Jayne asked, coming up behind him. “Don’t you get tired of that?”

 “She’ll be gone soon,” Mal said, watching as she disappeared into the common area.

 Jayne rested his arms against the railing. He was holding the banana he had nicked from Fen’s place. He peeled it, broke off a part and handed it to Mal. “Good to have a job, ain’t it?”

 Jayne was dying to ask about what Fen had said earlier. About how he got Serenity. Well, he could ask the night away but Mal wasn’t interested in dredging up that old story. He took a bite of the banana relishing the sweetness and the texture of the fruit. He looked back down at the empty cargo bay and felt satisfied. They had a job. That’s all that mattered.


	5. Inara

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inara deals with the crew and has some reflective time.

The small, plain dorm revealed nothing that would indicate to any subsequent lodger that a man known as Shepherd Book had ever occupied that space. There wasn't a piece of him to be found anywhere so on one particularly bleak day, Inara, the newest inhabitant of the small quarters, felt compelled to meticulously search the room. It had become inexplicably imperative that she find some physical evidence to corroborate the man's existence. Yet her search was frustratingly fruitless - no wayward bits of forgotten sundries, no old toothbrush, no hair ties, no forgotten letters or notes. Nothing. How could a man occupy a space for the better part of a year and not leave any indication that he had ever existed?

Since she never did find anything of Book’s, Inara settled on communing with him through the one object that she knew had been present during his stay on Serenity. Hanging drearily on the pale yellow wall at the foot of the bunk was someone's peculiar effort at art. Inara crossed her legs on the bunk and looked at the orange and purple weaving trying to imagine what Shepherd Book’s thoughts may have been as he gazed upon it. Did he, like her, wonder about whom had created it? Did he recognize the hardy and rough material as something a farmer or someone of modest means would have access to? Did he understand that someone had painstakingly dyed and wove the odd colors together attempting to create a sunset?

Inara was convinced that he, too, had eventually found the simple beauty and humanity the piece offered. At first, Inara had dismissed the piece as utterly forgettable then she had paused to study it longer and found it became quite ugly. In the last several weeks, however, Inara had had more than enough time to study it and she discovered the homely little creation exhibited a simple and honest beauty. After even more contemplation, she realized the odd art was supposed to be a setting sun. The startling contrast of tropical orange and royal purple against the rough, earthy fabric may have failed to accurately depict the brilliant beauty of a sunset but maybe that wasn’t the point. Unbidden, she remembered the sunset at the memorial and how the oranges, yellows and purples seemed muted almost as if the crew’s sadness had drained all the brilliant color from the sky. Maybe the artist was remembering how beautiful a sunset could be or how beautiful she wanted the sunset to be.

The crudeness of the rough fabric along with the shockingly vivid colors led her to believe this homespun craft was the result of some Rim woman’s artistic vision. Inara pictured the woman striking up a conversation with Kaylee and proudly showing off her art. Kaylee would have politely gushed over it and, even though she more than likely understood it to be lacking artistic value, Inara could see Kaylee bartering for it and knowingly overpaying for it. No, Inara amended; Kaylee had instantly recognized the humble creation for what it was: a human’s modest attempt to recreate beauty. Inara may have been trained to appreciate the finer aesthetic qualities of art but Kaylee had an innate ability to recognize splendor in the simplest of creations.

Leaning back against the opposite wall, Inara lightly ran her hands over the rough blanket beneath her. In her mind’s eye, Inara saw the coarse, synth-wool cover replaced by a thick, soft, green comforter accented with little purple flowers. Her gaze became contemplative as she visualized a color scheme that would complement the little piece of art that she had become so fond of. Light green on the wall beside the bunk - maybe a soft lilac for the wall where the weavinghung. Couldn't really play up the purple - Mal wouldn't like that…

Inara tensed and forced herself to stop her interior decorating fantasies reminding herself, yet again, that her presence on Serenity was temporary. To reinforce this idea, she had purposefully stayed in Shepherd Book’s old room - ostensibly to be near River so Simon could have time with Kaylee but if she went back to her shuttle, she would be tempted to dress it up a little, personalize it and little by little she would find herself back to the life she had fled. No, she couldn’t allow herself to consider this home. Not again. So, Inara stayed in the Shepherd’s old room determinedly not personalizing it in any fashion. Her few clothes were folded neatly in the small dresser but no knick knacks or cosmetics adorned the surface and when she left, she wouldn’t leave any more of herself than the Shepherd had.

“I’m putting the water on.” Simon called out interrupting her musings. Inara glanced over to the partly open doorway relieved to see that Simon wasn’t there. Wiping her eyes, she got up and peered out seeing him through the window of the med bay.

She walked over to the small mirror. Her eyes weren’t too red – nothing that a little kohl and color wouldn’t conceal. She sniffed quietly and began applying her makeup successfully covering any evidence of her emotional turmoil. When she was finished, she smiled at the mirror making sure that her visage was all that it should be. To her, the smile appeared false but she knew Simon would never see the lie of it. She went over to the small dresser and pulled out a bright red faux silk tunic. The flowing tunic matched perfectly with the equally red pantaloons she was already wearing. She slid the tunic over the close-fitting white tank top and turned to the mirror to survey the results. Her eyes narrowed in bemusement as she realized that practically every inch of her was covered from the neck down. Not her usual style, but she had found the ensemble in a little Vietnamese stand on Persephone and liked the classic, flowing material. At the time, she had felt optimistic and the colors complemented her mood. She sighed at the memory then straightened and walked to the common area.

Nodding to Simon, she took her usual spot on the chair perching on the edge and primly clasped her hands in her lap. She gave him a placid smile as he set the kettle of boiling water on the coffee table. Pouring the boiling water into a worn, yellow, checkered teapot, she pushed away her melancholy mood which was surprisingly easier to do when she emulated the ritual of the tea ceremony. She waited until Simon was seated on the couch before she continued preparing the tea. As she fell back into the habits of the cherished custom, she felt more like herself. Her next smile at Simon was the most honest one she had given anyone all day.

Placing one delicate finger on the lid of the pot, she poured their tea into mismatched cups. She watched as Simon leaned back blowing lightly on the hot liquid. In another life, she would have happily accepted his request for her services. He was the type she had favored: rich, young, privileged, and polished. She smiled again meeting Simon’s eyes which he took as a signal to commence their conversation.

Inara and Simon had formed a habit of taking tea every evening. They were generously given the opportunity by Kaylee and River who occupied themselves with whatever pastimes Kaylee could dream up. The tea time had become important. An escape. By unspoken agreement, no serious topics were broached; no talk of River’s problems, no discussion of the Alliance, nothing of any importance. To some, the polite inconsequentials they chatted about would seem meaningless but, to Simon and Inara, this brief foray into civilized conversation was a welcome and much needed respite from the turmoil on Serenity.

"Is it that time already?" Inara asked, pouring him more tea. They had deliberately fallen into the formal Chinese spoken by the upper class of the Core. Their pronunciation was crisper, their phrasing more precise but the words flowed effortlessly over their tongues. "I can't believe it's almost the end of July."

Almost three months since the Operative had shown up at the Training House throwing her life into chaos. Inara felt momentarily guilty over her selfish thought. At least she still had a life unlike so many others…

"Before I…" Simon hesitated before continuing. “Before I left, my parents were ecstatic over finally getting the opportunity to attend the Great Qian Affair.” He shook his head in wonder. “I swear, they must have been working on securing invitations for well over a decade."

She smiled nodding in understanding but Inara fought not to judge the Tams. Apparently, they worked so tirelessly to be able to attend the Universe's grandest fete but didn't expend half as much effort to check on the welfare of their daughter; their beautiful, exceptional daughter who deserved far better than these parvenus.

"Do you think they will attend this year?" Inara asked as she suddenly thought about what effect Simon and River's disappearance could have on the Tams’ life.

Simon met her concerned gaze understanding her underlying question. "I've done some checking. As far as I can tell, my parents have suffered no adverse consequences resulting from our…departure. So, yes, I'm fairly certain they will attend. They worked too hard for too long not to…" He trailed off, taking another sip of tea.

"Well,” Inara started, moving the conversation back to safer topics, “The Qian Affair is certainly the crush of the year. Nothing compares." Inara’s tone was wistful. Her fingers lightly traced the crack that encircled the cup as she thought about the famed Sihnon gala. It was the most celebrated and exclusive event in the Universe. Most of the attendees had entry solely by virtue of their ancestry. The only way for others not of the old Sihnon families to attend was to purchase Gala privileges which were not easy to come by. The privileges usually came about by the death of an attendee with no heirs or when a noble family fell on financial hardship. Gala privileges sold for an exorbitant amount.

"You've attended?" Simon asked.

“Several times, actually."

"You must have influential clients."

Inara’s wistful smile vanished as she stared at him stunned at the heated spark of offense his careless remark elicited. "My family has enjoyed entry to the Qian Affair since it first originated two centuries ago." Even though she knew Simon had not intended to insult her, she didn’t bother attempting to keep the reproach from her voice.

"I'm sorry," Simon said, looking mortified and confused. “I didn’t—“

Inara interrupted him before he could embarrass them further. "One of the lovely things about Sihnonese society is the complete acceptance and encouragement of the Art of the Companion. In fact, a family has not arrived socially until they may boast of some familial connection with a Companion."

“I didn’t know,” Simon said miserably.

Inara hated feeling the need to defend her profession. The problem was his comment made her feel exactly the same way she felt when Mal tossed “whore” at her. She took a sip of tea willing herself to calm down. After a few moments, she mustered an apologetic smile. “I’m sure you had more important things to concern yourself with other than the intricate workings of Sihnonese society.”

But the tea was ruined. They continued chatting but there was an uncomfortableness in the air that wasn’t present before and both were relieved when Kaylee and River arrived.

"I found a book," River said, sitting down by Inara on the chair. Inara scooted over to make more room for her. River clutched the book to her chest as she looked hopefully between Simon and Inara. She appeared to be oblivious to the tension between them. "That's what you said. ‘Let’s get into someone's head where you've been invited.’"

“That’s a wonderful idea, Inara,” Simon said, giving Inara a small smile. All was forgiven, at least on his end. Simon patted Kaylee’s knee before rising and taking the kettle into the med bay. “I’ll put on more water.”

“I need a different outfit.” River jumped up and ran to her bunk.

“Everything okay?” Kaylee asked.

Inara began arranging the tea set to accommodate two more. In hindsight, she felt foolish and silly for getting angry at such a thing. “I’m just feeling prickly and took it out on Simon.”

“Guess everybody’s doin’ a little of that lately.”

Inara did not miss the note of censure in Kaylee’s voice. She looked up and met Kaylee’s steady gaze surprised at the wave of admiration for her friend.

“He’s lucky to have someone like you at his back.”

Kaylee shrugged, waving off the compliment. “I just consider it my duty to cheer him up. Later. In my bunk.” She winked at Inara.

River rushed back in. She had donned a long, sparkly green skirt and removed her heavy boots. Inara and Kaylee smiled at her as River stood at attention waiting for Simon to return with the boiling water.

“Inara,” River said. “You sit next to Kaylee and Simon. As a proper audience.”

Inara sat next to Kaylee folding her legs under her. She was looking forward to River reading to them. It would be nice to have a River diversion that didn’t involve flying objects.

Simon returned with the kettle of boiling water. Inara moved to prepare the tea but River intercepted.

“Allow me.” Her face scrunched in concentration as she decided how much tea to put into the pot. Inara could see some form of calculation being mulled over before River finally decided on the appropriate amount. After pouring the water into the pot, River stared at it waiting for the tea to brew. Simon, Inara, and Kaylee remained silent watching her.

“I think we should let it steep for six minutes,” River commented to no one in particular.

When she judged the appropriate time had elapsed, River poured the tea. She watched as they each sipped their tea and smiled at their praise. She nodded, sitting down on the chair Inara had vacated and began to read.

“WhenIsteppedoutintothebrightsunlightfromthedarknessofthemoviehouse—“

“Sweetie, you got to slow down!” Kaylee said. “Can’t understand a word comin’ out of your mouth.”

“River, just take it slow,” Inara said. “Think about the words. Clear your mind of everything else. Just focus, mei mei.”

“Slow,’ River said, her expression gravely serious. Taking a deep breath, she began again. “ ‘When…I…stepped…out…into…the…bright…sunlight…from…the…darkness…of…the…movie…house…”

Simon, Kaylee and Inara exchanged an amused glance. River had certainly slowed down.

“…I… had…two…things…on…my…mind…Paul…Newman…and…a…ride…home.’ Who’s Paul Newman?”

“I don’t know, River.” Inara’s tone was patient.

“Paulus in the Latin. Small or humble. Is small Paul a good guy or a bad guy? If he’s small and humble he’s good, right?” She jumped up from her chair and pulled on a strand of hair. “Why would the narrator think about him? Is he sly? And Newman. Was he recently changed from a woman?”

Simon went into the infirmary and quickly returned bringing his Universal Encyclopedia. “American actor. Career flourished in the latter half of the twentieth century. Here’s his picture.”

Kaylee oohed over the eyes. “He’d be on my mind, too!”

River only spared a cursory glance – her mind had drifted onto other subjects. “Moviehouse. Moviehouse. House of movement?”

“I think he just watched a flicker,” Kaylee said, still looking at the image on the datapad. She looked up catching River’s unspoken question. “You know, a picture show?”

“River, at this rate we will never get past the first page,” Simon said. “Save your questions for the end of the chapter. Okay?”

River nodded. She stared at the page for a moment before sitting down and resuming her reading. After a few minutes, she found a pleasing rhythm. One that was neither too fast nor too slow but she still read in a dull monotone. Several minutes later, she jumped out of her seat and began to pace about the room – all without pausing in her reading. As she continued to read, she twirled. One hand held the book while the other grasped her green skirt as she spun slowly around the room.

Inara leaned back, her eye falling on Simon and Kaylee’s intertwined hands. Idly, she watched as Simon’s fingers absently played with Kaylee’s. She smiled feeling happy for them. Her thoughts wanted to dwell on how it would feel to have someone to be casual with - someone to have a future with but Inara firmly pushed those thoughts aside. She had made her decision long ago and had vowed never to regret her solitary path.She looked back up and gave her attention to River.

* * *

 

 "You've been thinking about it again." River observed as she sat down on Inara’s bunk. She was dressed for bed. "I can smell it."

Inara folded the red tunic placing it into the drawer with her other few clothes. “Smell it?” She asked absently as she puttered around the room preparing for bed.

“Not through my nose. At least I don’t think so.” Tilting her head to the side, she continued gazing at the weaving. "It's not a sunset - it's a sunrise. And I think that it's by a little girl. She's eight years old and has to get up before the sun to help on her family's farm. She does…farm things. Like feed the cows."

Inara smoothed lotion over her arms and hands. River held out her own arms as Inara rubbed off the excess on her. She nudged River over to make room for her on the narrow bunk. "That's what art is. Everyone sees something different." Inara rose up on her knees dividing River's hair. Without thinking, she began stroking River's long hair then finger combed it intending to braid it.

"I see yellow and orange and purple. It looks like a robe I had when I was four." Her voice was relaxed and dreamy. She tilted to her head back giving Inara better access to play with her hair. “Do you like cows?”

“I don’t dislike cows.”

“Do you remember the cows on our ship?”

 “Yes.”

“They’re probably all eaten and digested by now.”

Inara grimaced at the thought. “Maybe they are in a nice big pasture making little cows.”

“Cow heaven.”

Inara started to braid River’s hair but stopped when she saw something on the dresser that she hadn't noticed before. River craned her head back to watch Inara’s expression then hopped up and brought it to her. Inara examined the crude sculpture. It was made entirely of nuts and bolts that had been glued together to resemble the First House of Sihnon.

"River, this is an excellent likeness of the First House."

"I made it for you." River scooted under the covers and lay on her side with her hands tucked under her head. "You can take it with you. Something to remember me by when I'm left all alone." River affected an overly dramatic tone into her voice.

Inara rolled her eyes at River’s ploy but she chose to change the subject. "Are you sleeping in here?"

"Yes, please."

“I’m going to use the CorTex. You’ll be alright?”

River nodded, yawning. "Stay with me until I fall asleep?"

Laying down on the outside of the bunk, Inara reached out and turned down the light. In the dim light, she watched as River fell asleep. Once she was ready, sleep overcame River in minutes unlike Inara who lay in bed for what felt like hours before she was able to fall asleep. River was eerily still in her sleep. Still, that is, until a nightmare caught hold of her. She had had one last night and had crawled into Inara's bunk shaking. Inara stroked her hair and dried her tears feeling helpless. Last night had been no better or worse than the other nightmares. When Inara asked what she dreamed of, River would shrug. "Reavers?"

It was difficult reconciling the young woman who lay next to her with the woman who had killed a dozen Reavers. River looked so young, innocent, and vulnerable. Inara smoothed back a stray tendril of dark hair winding it behind River’s ear.

The clock alongside the bed told Inara that it was ten p.m. She compared Serenity time with Kapilavastu time. Remembering that the difference wasn’t that great, she slid off the bunk. Even though River was fast asleep, Inara whispered, "I'm going to the shuttle."

Throwing on a green dragon robe, Inara headed for the cargo bay. She paused at the hatch looking up to make sure no one was around. Rushing through the hold, she sprinted up the stairs hoping she didn't run into anyone. Once she approached the hatch to Shuttle One, Inara allowed herself to return to a more normal pace. She walked into the dark shuttle and found the light controls.

In the harsh light, her eyes found Zoë immediately.

“Zoë…I didn't expect to find you here… I'm sorry to interrupt.”

"Ain't interruptin' anything." Zoë’s voice was toneless. She may have been sitting on the small cot in the dark but she hadn’t been sleeping.

"I was…just going to use the Cortex." She turned to leave feeling like an intruder.

“Can’t feel him in here," Zoë explained, absently tapping her finger on her knee. "The one place in the whole damned ship where I can’t feel him.”

"Have you been sleeping here?"

"If you can call it that." Zoë tilted her head back against the bulkhead and stared at the ceiling. "God, I miss him. Nights like this everything is so damned quiet. Never realized just how silent Serenity can be.”

She looked up as if remembering Inara was there.

“Well…” Inara started, unsure if Zoë wanted her to stay or go. “I guess I’ll…”

“No. It's alright.” Zoë patted the mattress inviting Inara to sit. “I've had enough of my own company.” Inara sat down beside her. They sat quietly for awhile.

“Worst part is," Zoë continued. "I’m starting to get used to him not being here. Starting to reconcile myself to the fact that I ain’t never gonna see him again. That it wasn’t all a mistake and he’s laying in some Alliance hospital waiting for me.” She looked Inara in the eyes. “Why in the hell did I think I could hold on to such joy?”

"Do you wish you hadn't…"

"Loved him?"

Inara nodded.

“No.” Zoë met Inara's gaze. "I got regrets but not on that account. Best thing I ever let happen to me. Didn't end the way I wanted but, yeah, it was worth it. Just never had it fixed in my mind that it would be him that’d go first.”

"What do you regret?"

"That I didn't make him shut up and hop out of his seat." Zoë's eyes glazed a little until she shook her head chasing those images away.

Inara’s own mind went back to how Wash had looked on the bridge. She shivered and looked around to clear her head. Her gaze focused on something on the floor next to Zoë. “What’s that?”

“One of Wash’s buddies sent this as a wedding present.” Zoë reached down and held up a bottle in the shape of an extra well-endowed woman. “We were saving it for a special occasion.” She looked at Inara, a humorless smile appearing on her face. “Guess this occasion is as good as any.”

She opened the bottle and took a long drink, her fingers avoiding the overly large breasts. “Ain’t sure how to hold thing…” Passing it to Inara, she said, “Not as bad as the bottle looks.”

Inara studied the bottle. The woman was disproportionate - boasting of a shape no woman ever had.

She took a sip and coughed. “Strong.”

“Them flyboys like their liquor.” Inara handed her back the bottle. Zoë looked at it a ghost of an amused smile pulling at her lips. “Guess they like funny bottles, too.”

“What is she supposed to be wearing?”

“Flight suit, would be my guess. Though, ain’t entirely sure how much flyin’ she could accomplish lookin’ as she does.”

They fell silent again passing the bottle back and forth.

"Thinkin' about settin' up shop here again?" Zoë asked.

"No," Inara said, taking another drink and shuddered slightly. The liquid was too sweet but carried a definite punch. “I’m in a little trouble. With the Guild"

"Jobless trouble?" Zoë asked, finally looking up.

Inara shook her head. “It’s nothing I can’t handle. I think I’m just on a…sabbatical for the time being until things settle down."

"They know what you been up to?" Zoë hesitated before forcing out the next word. "Miranda?"

"The Guild doesn’t know the whole story of my…involvement. I’m not really sure how they would know but I’m a little worried about some of their connections within the Alliance. I would prefer it if they not put the pieces together.”

"And if they do piece it together?"

Inara shrugged. "Somehow, my status with the Guild doesn't seem as important as it used to."

Zoë nodded in perfect understanding. “So, how is everything below decks?”

“I was mean to Simon.”

“Shame on you.” Zoë said with not an ounce of reprimand. She took another drink. “Mean like being mean to the Captain mean?”

Inara looked down at her hands. “Just snippy.”

“Why you let him talk to you like that?” Zoë asked but this time her tone indicated she was actually interested in hearing an answer. “Somebody throw those kinds of words to me and it’d be the last they say.”

Inara didn’t need to ask who Zoe was referring to. “He’s just…”

“Letting off steam? Venting? You feel the need to absorb the shit he tosses? That a part of being a Companion?”

“No. It’s just a part of being on this ship. I want to help, Zoë.”

“I know it. Just don’t think you oughta let him get away with that.”

“Like he lets you get away with the things you’ve been saying?”

Zoë nodded. “Captain knows what’s what. Still don’t make it right but…" Zoë started to take another drink but stopped. Lowering the bottle, she shook her head. “My fault. I can blame River, Simon, Mal, God, Buddha, Reavers, the Alliance, the Fruity Oaty Bar babes - whomever but can’t get past the fact that it rests on me.”

“Zoë!”

Zoë met Inara’s shocked gaze. She took a deep breath. “He wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for me. You think he would have put up with this goh seh?”

“His choice, Zoë. No one made him do anything he didn’t want to.”

“Except stay on this ship.”

“He stayed to be with you.”

“On this ship.”

“With you.”

“If it weren’t for me, he wouldn’t be dead!” Zoë exclaimed looking away.

“No. You don’t know that.”

They were silent. Inara took another drink and started to pass the bottle to Zoë but Zoë looked like she was a million miles away.

“We were gettin’ ready to make a baby,” Zoë said softly - so soft Inara almost didn’t hear her.

She met Inara’s devastated look, finally accepting the bottle. “I’m nagging him about a baby. He was steady on the no. Then he gets on board for it. But by that time things started taking a nosedive for Mal. For us. I said wait until things get better.” She paused to take another drink, heftier than the others. “Now, here I am. No husband. No baby.”

“Zoë, I’m so sorry,” Inara said, cringing at the ineffectual words she had to offer Zoë. She hadn’t considered that Zoë was interested in having children.

Zoë tapped the bottle and gave Inara a rueful grin. “Look at me! Maudlin drunk! What fun is this? Can’t keep my mind straight on anything. One moment I say one thing, the next something contradictory. Not even sure if I can blame this here hooch, either.”

“That’s grief for you. You question everything. Don't know what you’re saying, what you're thinking…"

“You seem acquainted with it.”

Inara hesitated. “My mother died when I was nine.”

Zoë looked at her in sympathy. “That’s rough.”

“Yes," Inara said quietly.

“Too much grief on this boat,” Zoë said.

“Do you think things will be better with this job?” Inara asked relieved to find a different path of conversation.

“Will be for the Captain.” Zoë took a drink and looked up at Inara. She smiled - a true smile. “You should have seen him before the Valley. Things was bad as bad. But he believed. Believed we had God on our side. Nothing could make us lose.”

Inara could visualize the man Zoë was describing. She well remembered Mal standing before them all on Miranda. As he spoke, she had seen a glimpse of the Sergeant that had instilled such unwavering loyalty in Zoë. She had felt herself drawn to that unwavering belief in doing the right thing. She desperately wanted to see that man again. Not the one who took refuge in his bitterness.

Then she her thoughts conjured his smile. That damned, sincere, honest, unthinking smile he’d bestowed upon her as she gave him her nonanswer about getting back to the Training House. It had contained none of his usual smirk and made her forget she needed to get back to the Training House; made her believe that she had been wrong to run away from Serenity; made her think that Mal would allow her to help chase away the demons that hounded him. She took another drink remembering the whys of her decisions.

“And then we lost. Lost everything. Watched our comrades die slow painful deaths. Helpless to relieve their suffering. Then we lost the war. Then he found out about Shadow…” Zoë shook her head not wanting to go any further. “We need to talk about somethin’ else. Ain’t needin’ to revisit all that on top of all this other mess I’m sortin’ through.”

“Yes,” Inara said, but her gift for conversation seemed to escape her.

Zoë sat up straighter and slapped her knee. “I remember what I’ve been wantin’ to discuss with you.” She took another drink before offering the bottle to Inara. “You two been snipin’ at each other a little nastier than usual. Why is that?”

Inara shrugged taking the bottle.

“Let me see if I can suss this out.” Zoë leaned back against the bulkhead looking at Inara while she thought. “Argument centered a bit on money. Did the last time, too, if I recollect correctly.”

Inara remained silent. If Mal hadn’t told Zoë about Sunny then she wouldn’t say anything either.

“I have been wondering. Passively wondering ‘cause I got other things on my mind but time to time I wonder how he got the money to fix Serenity,” she smiled, a little loopily. “I'm even workin' my way up to caring.”

 Inara took a sip from the bottle. “Really?” It was her I’m-sure-I-don’t-know tone.

“Out with it, Inara.” First mate Zoë Washburn had returned. “Where’d he get the money?”

“Do you think he would tell me?”

“Ok, here’s what I think. He borrowed it.” She waited for a response from Inara. “Borrowed it from someone in MarNew?”

 Inara kept quiet but took another sip.

“Tell me he didn’t go to Sunny Dae.”

Inara took a bigger sip.

“Fay-fay duh pee-yen!!” Zoë looked disgusted and worried. “His idiocy knows no bounds!”

“She didn’t seem too bad,” Inara said knowing how stupid that sounded.

Zoë gave her an astonished look. “You of all people know you can’t pretty up someone rotten to the core.”

“I tried talking him out of it. I even—“ Inara stopped, frowning. She blamed the liquor for her carelessness.

“What?”

Inara shook her head sharply which caused her brain to spin.

“You offer to give him money?”

“Loan,” Inara said, rubbing her temples. “Loan him money. I’m not as cash rich as people assume, you know.” Inara pointed to the bottle. “And what is this stuff? I can’t think straight.”

“It’s good, huh?” Zoë grinned and took another drink. “You are out of practice.”

“Pardon?”

“If I can read you so easily. You must be out of practice. Time was I never could figure out what was really going on in your head.”

“Maybe I wanted you to know,” Inara said, her tone bordering on petulant.

“Maybe you did.” Zoë mimicked Inara’s tone but she was smiling. “Don’t worry. I’m sure your clients won’t even notice, will they?”

Even if Zoë’s smile was the smile of the mildly inebriated, Inara was glad to see it. Her happiness caused her to be a little careless-on-purpose with her words. “If there are any more clients.”

"Well,” Zoë’s look turned mischievous. “If the Guild boots you out you could always help fly the ship."

"Flying Serenity is very different than flying the shuttle."

"Yeah, you'd know about that,” Zoë murmured.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Wash taught you to fly her." She met Inara’s surprised gaze.

“You knew about that?”

“I know everything that happens on this boat.” Zoë sat back and crossed her arms. “Besides, it was a point of contention.”

“Zoë, I’m sorry. I never meant…” Inara was flustered. She never thought… “He was just teaching me some basic maneuvers.”

“Yeah, I thought it was you that taught him that little bit he started doing with his tongue…”

“Ship maneuvers!”

Zoë laughed. Inara realizing the joke laughed in relief.

Still laughing, Zoë shook her head. “You really are out of practice.”

“I must be. I should have seen that one coming.”

Zoë bounced the bottle on the mattress. “Even Naked-Lady-Bottle with her impressive tata’s saw it comin’!” She grinned and bounced the now half empty bottle to Inara.

Inara caught Zoë’s silly mood and grinned back. “Maybe I should substitute Naked-Lady-Bottle for my teapot. The clients would certainly find her…interesting.”

“Bet your clients back at the Training House miss you.”

“Hmmm,” Inara said absently. Her attention had been diverted by a loose string on the blanket. “No clients, actually.”

“No as in none?” A shrewd grin played about Zoë’s lips. “Well, well, well. Isn’t that interesting?”

Inara looked up shocked at what she had revealed. “It’s really not,” she said, wanting to downplay the meaning of her not taking clients.

But Zoë's amusement could not be contained. “Look at you with your celibacy!” She handed Inara the bottle. “Here, you may get more enjoyment from this pertness.”

They both looked at the bottle realizing as the liquid level decreased, so had the covering on the woman. Now, the bottle displayed the ample assets of the curvy woman in her almost naked glory. They looked from the naked bottle woman to each other and dissolved into a fit of laughter. Their amusement quickly turned into the out of control laughter that had a basis in something only passably funny.

“What’s goin’ on in here?”Jayne said poking his head in the shuttle. He sounded gruff and grouchy but Inara met his eye and she saw the happiness there. For Zoë.

“Girl talk, Jayne,” Zoë said, wiping her eyes. “Get out.”

“You talk girl?” Jayne looked truly baffled.

Zoë and Inara looked at each other again and their laughter bubbled up even stronger than before.

“Hey!" Jayne said, walking into the shuttle. "Can I have that bottle?”

“No!” Zoë exclaimed, pulling the bottle out of his reach. “It’s Inara’s. She needs it.”

They grinned at each other as they watched Jayne’s expression. He looked to be concentrating hard trying to sort out the why of Inara needing the curvaceous bottle.

“I feel I need it more,” Jayne said, in all seriousness.

“Go!” They said together. Their laughter followed Jayne out the shuttle.


	6. Jayne

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jayne accompanies Mal and Zoe to a potential job.

Jayne looked in the mirror examining the stubble on his face. He wondered if he should shave the lower portion of his goatee and grow out an impressive mustache. Mustaches were tough, weren’t they? And they tickled women in all the right places, too. Squinting his eyes and furrowing his brow, he adopted his most lethal look and tried to imagine how thuggish he would appear with a handlebar.

Taking a couple of steps back so he could see his entire body in the mirror, Jayne quickly lost interest in the mustache question. Clad only in a pair of tight, red, and very small underpants, he grinned at his reflection. Damn, he looked good! As he flexed his arms, he marveled at how well the veins in his biceps showed. Turning to the side, he flexed again imagining he was Mr. Universe. Well, not the dead Mr. Universe, but the Mr. Universe with the body of shredded steel.

A knock sounded and he grunted loudly - it was his way of giving whoever was there knowledge that he wasn’t averse to someone entering his quarters.

“You’re due for your inoculation,” Simon called down.

Jayne rolled his eyes. “I’m busy!”

“I’m really trying to not to imagine what you’re busy doing, but, we’re due to land soon and I’m concerned about a viral strain on Three Hills. I checked your chart---“

“So come down and inoc me and stop blathering about it!”

While Jayne waited for Simon to come down, he took the opportunity to study his most thuggish expression. He, Mal, and Zoë were meeting with a new guy and Jayne wanted to project the right image. "Hey! You still there?" He called up when he realized Simon still hadn’t come down.

“Can’t you come up?” Simon asked, sounding like the stuck-up prissy pants he was.

“Ain’t naked if that’s what you’re worried about!” Jayne hollered. “Besides, thought you doctors liked naked people.”

Jayne heard a murmured, “Not all of them” and a loud sigh before Simon descended the ladder. “Nakedness wasn’t my worry,” he told Jayne as he looked around the room. A pinched look appeared on his face. “Yes. It smells pretty much like I expected.”

Simon finally looked at Jayne and his eyes blinked in shock. A grin played about his mouth before he let out a laugh.

“What?” Jayne asked before pulling on his olive-green cargo pants. “I’m dressed.”

“Yes.  And may I compliment you on your choice of underwear?” 

“Women love these. And these are the only kind that I’ll allow to cover my parts. As a doc you should know you gotta keep your boys close.”

“Well, actually…”

“It’s what my mama always said," Jayne interrupted. He didn't want to hear Simon's fancible thoughts on proper masculine care. "And she had four boys so I guess she knows what she’s talkin’ ‘bout.” He glared at Simon daring him to contradict the wisdom of his mother. 

Simon just shrugged and opened his medical case. “It’s better you not procreate anyway.”

“Huh?”

“That’s quite a collection.” Simon said, nodding toward the bulkhead near Jayne's bed. 

“The babes or the guns?”

“Both, I guess.” 

Even if it was Simon paying the compliment, Jayne was inordinately pleased that the doctor noticed. Jayne didn't have many visitors to his quarters so it wasn't often he could show off some of his most prized possessions. 

“This here’s the best of the lot.” Jayne reached up and took a framed picture down from his wall. It was of a woman, mostly naked, holding a mammoth gun over her mammoth breasts. Jayne pushed a button and she aimed the weapon and dropped her drawers. As the weapon raised and her drawers dropped repeatedly, Jayne grinned watching her antics. He looked up and wasn’t surprised to find that Simon's face appeared as if he’d been sucking on a lemon.

“And you think I don’t have taste.” Jayne smirked at Simon, enjoying his unease.

“Your mother give that to you?” Simon asked.  

Jayne’s grin faded as he heard something in Simon’s tone that he disliked even more than the question. As if Simon was trying to make a point. He didn’t like Simon making points he couldn’t comprehend.

“Just cause Kaylee's oilin' yer tube with her tw --" He was rudely interrupted by Simon’s fist connecting with his ear. 

Jayne briefly contemplated how much damage he could inflict on that pretty face before he decided against responding to Simon's less than impressive punch.   He did have standards when it came to fisticuffs and Simon wasn’t up to his.  Jayne was a little surprised, however, that the punch carried slightly more heft than he had imagined Simon capable of. The force of the punch almost matched that of his sister, Bobbie.

“What the hell is that? You hit my gorramn ear!”

Simon shook out his fist glaring at Jayne. “Sorry. I wasn’t aiming for your ear. You’re just very tall.”

Rubbing his ear, Jayne said, “Can’t believe you knocked the Cap’n over with that swat of yers. My great grannie got a better punch’n that. And she’s bedridden, too.”

“I don’t like you talking about Kaylee like that.” There wasn’t a speck of hesitation or fear in Simon’s voice.   

Jayne turned around to hang his beloved picture back on the bulkhead. He felt slightly shamed about his comment and blamed Simon’s mentioning of his mother who would have most definitely knocked him flat on his ass if she ever heard such a thing come out of his mouth. He looked at the woman in the capture and his enjoyment of her dimmed a little.

“The things you say…” Simon continued. “It's not respectful. I thought you considered her a friend.”

“May be a friend but I ain’t ignorant about her…ways.”  Jayne sat down on his bunk wanting Simon to leave. “You inoccing me or what?”

Simon remained silent as he administered the shot then repacked his case. Before ascending the ladder, he said, “Don’t talk like that about her. Please.”

Jayne watched Simon climb up the ladder hating him a little less. He glanced around his quarters trying to recapture his good mood but the distant sense of shame still hovered over him. Couldn’t even muster an anger toward Simon and that itself was distressing to him.

He slid on his new favorite t-shirt - a black shirt that bore the emblem of the Hangzhou Hammers. Just last week, the Hammers had a surprising victory over the Bantam Roosters out of Londinium. Jayne’s sour mood began to lift as he thought about how his Hammers had tromped on the Core team. No one, except him, had expected the scrappy team from the Rim to prevail over the more experienced Roosters. 

Feeling better, he turned his attention to the other thing in his bunk that made him most happy - his gun collection. Scratching his head, he thought about which would be the best one to take with him. He was wearing his green cargos and usually liked wearing his usual gettup with an ensemble such as this. It was a classic look and let everyone know what kind of man he was. His eye fell on an Instigator30 that he hadn't worn in months. He didn’t like neglecting any of his guns and today felt like a special occasion.  Pulling it down off its hook behind his bed, he lovingly cleaned and loaded the gun looking forward to finally getting a job.

* * *

Jayne sat in the backseat of the mule idly looking out at the landscape. Mal drove the mule down a narrow dirt road thronged by rows and rows of lush vegetation. He could see miles of soy and corn and thanked whoever was in charge up there that he wasn't a farmer.

There wasn’t much in the way of conversation which bothered Jayne as his good mood had returned in full force. Mal concentrated on the road – although there wasn’t much to concentrate about. Zoë, wearing a pair of Wash’s sunglasses, sat in her seat nursing a hangover. 

"Where is this place?" Jayne finally asked. He had grown tired of looking at nothing but greenery.

“Off a ways, got maybe another half hour,” Mal said.

"Why'nt we just park closer? Seems an awful bother."

"Ships landing at a farm draws attention, Jayne," Zoë reminded him, rubbing her temples as she spoke.

"Feelin' poorly are you?" Jayne asked. "You are Inara seemed to be havin' quite the time of it last night."

Mal darted a quick glance at Zoë making Jayne grin. "What she need that bottle for anyway?" Jayne asked.

She glanced at Mal who suddenly appeared not to be paying attention to their conversation. "Nothin' for you to worry about," she said. "Your yappin' ain't helpin' my head." She began stretching her neck slowly, tilting her head side to side trying to work out a kink.

Jayne wanted to talk more about Inara just to rile Mal but he had enormous respect for the post-binge head pains. He contented himself with watching the scenery and thinking about the next match between the Hammers and Dogs. But he couldn’t stay silent for too long.

“What are we tillin’ or something?” Jayne asked. He was going to be awful mad if they were out here for farm work. No one bothered to answer him but he hadn’t really expected them to. 

After what felt like hours, Zoë finally said, “There’s the turnoff.”

Mal slowed the mule and they turned down a road that looked identical to the one they just left. Only five minutes on this road and they appeared at a clearing. Jayne rose in his seat a little to get a better look at the farm that lay ahead. It looked like a picture from one of those advertisements that beckoned people from overcrowded cities to relocate to the Rim.

Jayne frowned as Mal stopped the mule in front of a freshly painted, white farmhouse. A neat picket fence surrounded the yard.

“This can’t be the place, can it?” It looked homey and nice; a place where regular people lived.

“Directions says it is,” Mal said. 

An old man approached them. "Welcome!" He called out. His white hair and beard were a stark contrast to his deep, black skin.  Jayne's sense of trepidation increased as the man walked closer and Jayne beheld the old geezer that was their contact. This grampa had the look of Methuselah and not at all like someone who had a need of their services. 

"Mr. Burnside," Mal said, reaching out to shake his hand. "I'm Malcolm Reynolds."

"Call me Oklahoma. My father is Mr. Burnside," he said taking Mal's hand and nodding toward an even older man napping on a rocker near the barn.

"That there's Zoë and the big guy's Jayne."

After shaking hands with Zoë, Oklahoma looked up at Jayne. "Your mama sure fed you good, didn't she?" He laughed good naturedly before saying, "Follow me back this way. We can sit in the shade.”

They walked around to the rear of the house. “So, ya’ll know Stanislaus?”

“Uh, that’s right, Oklahoma,” Mal said, glancing back at Jayne and Zoë.

"Well any friend of Stanny is a friend of mine!"

Jayne fought not to roll his eyes. These war buddies found kinship where, to his mind, none was. Just because two people fought the same battle didn't mean they were aligned in all other things. Yet, that dude they met back on Liann Juin and talked to for all of five minutes was vouching for them as if they'd known him from birth. 

“Stanny says you two are Independents.”

“That’s right,” Mal said. “How do you know him?”

"Let's see…" Oklahoma said, "Stanny is my mother's sister's husband's great grand son or some such. I can’t keep it straight. Let's just say we're distantly related.

"Quite a farm you have here, sir," Zoë said.

"Farm's my wife's. Got no mind for soil and shit - I'm just a wheeler dealer myself." He gestured toward a table and chairs under a huge elm tree indicating they should sit. " 'Preciate you keepin' low key 'bout comin' in. Authorities come callin' here and my wife'll skin me - and not in the good way neither! I usually conduct my affairs in town but my dad's been poorly and I like to stick close to keep an eye on him while Lina's tending to her business."

Jayne sat down in the cushioned lawn chair irritated that it was so comfortable. He felt funny about this. It was the prettiest place Jayne had ever conducted business and it made him nervous. Old people, farms, dads, shade trees and comfortable chairs weren't part of his ideal criminal environment.

Oklahoma went over to a pump and pumped water into a tin pitcher. He poured them a glass of clear, cool water and sat back in his chair with a sigh.

"Yeah, I got somethin’ for you. Got a big problem gettin' some stuff out of Deadwood."

"What's the problem?" Mal asked, leaning forward causing his chair to rock a little.

“It’s a tedious situation. Gotta buy cargo on Deadwood.”

“How’s that get tedious?” Jayne asked, earning him a glare from both Mal and Zoë. 

“Bit of local trouble. The seller’s been having the devil’s own time getting his stuff off world. On account of another outfit making trouble. I think ya’ll do well with this job." Oklahoma looked meaningfully at Jayne.   "It’s not just about smuggling but got to make sure the goods actually get to your ship. And that is where the trouble is.”

“Who’s the seller?”

“Feller by the name of Gordon Cato. He’s not a nice man by any stretch of the imagination but, believe me, he’s anxious to do business.”

“Sounds like a job we can handle,” Mal said. 

"Yeah, you look the part. Danger is there, I’ll be up front about that. Got to make certain that you do nothin' that will tip off the other party that a deal’s being done.  I'm serious, we've been tryin' to get that stuff outta there for months."

He took another drink of his water and looked at toward the direction of his father. “This buyer is willing to overpay and I’m willing to oversell. Deal goes the way it ought, you stand to clear at least nine.”

Jayne tried to repressing his grin but failed. He caught Zoë’s eye and could see her relief.

“And, it’ll only cost you three. Not many opportunities to treble your money.”

Jayne’s grin disappeared.

“Three what?” Mal asked, sitting up straighter.

“You front the cash. You get your money back, get your fee, and a portion of the profit. Deal is good. I know you’re takin’ the brunt of the risk but payoff will be worth it.”

Dammit. Jayne swore inwardly and sprang forward in his chair. Ain’t no way Captain had three thousand to front on this job. 

Mal stared at Oklahoma his jaw tightening. “We got us a problem, Mr. Burnside.”

Oklahoma’s genial look faded and his eyes turned to steel.

“Well, there’s the rub," Oklahoma said. The atmosphere chilled considerably. "I ain’t inclined to hand over three biggies to you.”

“You sayin’ you don’t trust us?”

“I hate to put it that way.” The man didn’t look as old as he had ten minutes ago. He was aged, yes, but Jayne swiftly caught the scent of power. He had underestimated this guy by a mile. 

“I get that.” Mal cast a brief look to Zoë conveying his worry. “Think we could work somethin’ out? I got a couple of crew I could leave as collateral if that’ll make you feel better.”

Oklahoma smiled, amused at Mal’s offer. “Nah. But the trust thing’s tough, ain’t it. I know Stanny said ya'll friends and all but I also know he's got a sentimental hole in his heart to his fellow Browncoats. Clouds his judgment.” He looked between Mal and Zoë. “Now, we gotta figure us a way of getting that coin and gettin’ them goods to my most anxious buyer.”

"Tell us where's there coin and ---" Jayne began.

"Zhù zuǐ!" Mal snapped, fixing a stern look to Jayne before turning a cold gaze to Oklahoma. "Information like that may have been better up front."

"Never entered my mind you'd expect me to hand over my money and kiss you goodbye. Look, son, I been in this business since long before your daddy was birthed. And see that old man there?” He pointed to the man still sleeping in the rocking chair. “We got us almost two hundred years of rabblerousin' 'tween us. First thing he taught me was watch your money. Now, how can I be watching my money if it sails off with you?" 

As if on cue, two men and a woman materialized from the house and barn. They didn’t approach but their presence was signal enough.

"I am sorry ‘bout the misunderstanding," Oklahoma said.

“Forget about it,” Mal replied rising from his chair. His voice was beyond cold - utterly lacking any kind of emotion at all. As if he wasn’t surprised at all by this disastrous turn of events. 

* * *

 

The ride back to Serenity was long and tense. Jayne felt sick. This deal was it; supposed to be the one to get them back in business. 

“Zoë, you still know how to contact Tito?” Mal asked, looking straight ahead.

She looked at him for a few moments before speaking. “I do.”

“Wave him.”

“Sir,” Zoë began. Jayne realized that it was the first time since he couldn’t remember when that he had heard her address the Captain thus. “Ain’t thinkin’ that’s the best course.”

Mal stopped the mule and sat quietly. The sun had set but there was light enough that Jayne could still make out the rows of soy. He thought about his earlier feelings about farming and decided he’d rather be behind a plow than embark on the kind of work he suspected Mal was contemplating. He never would have figured Mal for going dirty, neither. Should have. He remembered Mal ordering them to strap the folks at Haven to Serenity. Jayne didn’t want to think about the lengths Mal would go to keep flying. But for once, he knew to keep his mouth shut. Zoë would talk some sense into Mal. She had to.

“You got any ideas, Zoë?” Mal finally asked.   ‘Cause I am goddamned out of ‘em. We got enough fuel to take us maybe one more place if it’s not too far.”

“We wanna go down that road?” She asked. “Once there it’s awful difficult gettin’ off it.”

There were two ways to descend further into the damned business that was theirs: drugs and slaves. Jayne knew Mal would never go into slaving so that left one option.

“Maybe you’re wantin’ yer old job back at the factory.” He stared at her until she looked away.

Jayne didn’t know what that meant but he could see that it upset Zoë. Zoë looked back at Mal and they stared at each other for almost a full minute. There was a conversation being had between them that he couldn’t decipher.  

“I’ll wave him,” she said still looking at Mal. “Tomorrow.”

“That’ll work, then.” Mal started up the mule and raced down the road.

Shaking his head, Jayne wanted to hop off the mule and head straight into the rows of corn. Drugs. There was coin in that to be sure but the risk was more than Jayne liked. Wasn’t the risk of life and limb that scared him neither. If they got caught that would be it for them. Prison forever. Jayne didn’t mind brief stints in jail that he had experienced over the course of his years but the thought of looking at the same four walls for the rest of his days scared him. He tried to determine if he would prefer getting eaten by Reavers or going to prison for life. Both were equally horrible to his way of thinking and he couldn’t decide between the two.

* * *

 

Kaylee, Simon, and Inara were sitting on folding chairs outside of Serenity waiting for their return. They were expecting good news and their faces showed it.

Mal drove into the bay and hopped out of the mule as soon as it powered off. He walked straight to a pile of old crates and kicked them. The loud crash echoed through the hold. He stalked up the stairs and disappeared from view.

Kaylee and Inara looked worried. “What happened?” Kaylee asked. “Thought this was a sure thing.”

“Would be if we had three thousand.” Zoë said. 

“Three thousand! For what?”

“Front money.”

“What’s that?” Inara asked looking worriedly between Jayne and Zoë.

“We put up the three thousand and buy the goods. Then, we make the sale, get back our investment plus our fee plus a percentage of the proceeds from the sale.  Would’ve been a good deal, too,” Zoë said.

“Well that’s all kind of dumb!” Kaylee exclaimed.

“Can’t expect a stranger to give us that kind of money and then hope we make good on it.”

“It would have been nice to know that before we came out this way,” Simon said.

That was exactly what Jayne thought but he didn’t like Simon saying something he was thinking. “This here’s a face to face business. You should know that by now, dummy.”

“What happens now?” Inara asked.

“Nothin’,” Jayne responded. “Not a gorramn thing. Ain’t got fuel. Ain’t got jobs. All we got is a crazy Captain and big pile of shitty nothin’.”

“What’s the Captain gonna do?” Kaylee asked.

Zoë gave her a sad look but didn’t answer her. She turned and went up the stairs.

“Jayne?” Kaylee looked at him as if he had any answers.

Jayne looked at Kaylee. How could she fit into the life the Captain was thinking? Sweet girl like her had no place on this cursed boat. He shook his head and went up to his bunk.

* * *

 

Jayne shifted again trying to find a comfortable position. He couldn’t sleep. Things were bad on Serenity and bad for him and they were set to get worse. The prospects for semi-honest coin were bleak but the possibility of earning money with what the Captain had in mind worried him mercilessly. He’d done fairly well for himself in his life of crime; always kept his nose out of the serious stuff with the seriously scary people. The kind of people who’d slit your throat for their own amusement. People who’d sell a kid to earn a bit. Soulless people…

Sighing, he considered his options. Stay or go.  It was that simple, really.

“Jayne.” Inara’s voice came through his com. 

“’Nara?”

“Meet me in the cargo bay in ten minutes. Wear your best clothes. You know your striped shirt. It is clean, isn’t it?”

Only because he hadn’t worn it in months. Had no occasion for such finery but never mind that what was she after?

“What are you talkin’ about?”

“Ten minutes in the cargo bay. Oh, and bring your secret stash of money.”

How’d she know about that? “Hey, I’m tryin’ to sleep here.”

No answer.

“’Nara?”

She had commed out.

Five minutes later Jayne was in the cargo bay. Four minutes after that Inara appeared wearing the outfit she had worn when she left the Training House. It had been quite some time since Jayne had seen Inara dolled up and seeing her as she was brought memories of happier times on Serenity. Then he noticed her carrying her bow.

“What’s that for?”

“We’re going to earn some money.”

“Uh, ‘Nara, we got us a mess of guns which is a far sight more useful when robbin’ folk.”

“We’re not going to rob anyone.”

Jayne started to get a bad feeling about her plan. “Don’t think the Captain would ‘preciate you whorin’ to get money. ‘Specially the kind of whorin’ that necessitates a bow.”

“How much money did you bring?” Inara asked as she opened the airlock.

“All I have is about 150 bì.”

“Ok, that’ll have to do.”

“Do for what?”

“Just come on.”

She walked outside into the night. Jayne followed. After all, he did get dressed up and if there was going to be any kind of whoring he should attract a good one looking as he did. Maybe the evening would turn out alright after all.


	7. River

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> River finds a hobby and bonds with the Captain. Jayne and Inara return from their mysterious night out.

 

* * *

Using all her brain power, River concentrated on finding a path back into her dream. She had been a lepidoptera and had been happily flitting about her mother’s garden. Flying from the heliotropia to the amaranthus caudatus, she happily fed on the sweet nectar until her butterfly eye had fallen on a woman calmly pruning her prized Queen Elizabeths. Butterfly River recognized the woman as her mother and tried to fly to her but a bright purple and red striped ladybug as well as the cloying scents of the roses kept diverting her attention and River woke without ever reaching her mother. She wanted to be back in the dream world - not to reach her mother but because she enjoyed being a butterfly.

The trail of her dream became hopelessly lost, however, as images from the crew assaulted her. River’s eyes snapped open, immediately focusing on some random point on the ceiling. It wasn’t the imperfections and discolorations of the ceiling that drew her attention; her mind was not registering what her eyes perceived. Her mind was being inundated with the colors and waves of emotion that flowed through Serenity. Black for the Captain, hollowed but not empty, sitting on his chair in his bunk staring at nothing. Purple for Zoë, flush with grief, making herself complete another twenty push-ups. Yellow for Kaylee, rousing out of a dream of Reavers and dead children, trying desperately to keep hold of her optimism. Simon…

“I’m awake,” she called out, turning her attention away from the others to greet her brother.

He slid the door open smiling at her. “Ready for your meds?” He asked, overly bright.

River frowned; she didn’t need to be psychic to see the strain in the smile or to hear the tension in his voice. “I don’t need it!" She exclaimed grouchily and looked back up at the ceiling. One brow raised as she saw that a spot was moving across the dingy expanse. As it moved, it grew until River was able to identify the ladybug from her dream. How had it escaped from her head?

The sound of Simon tapping the hypo brought her back to reality. Frowning at him, she scooted down in her bed pulling the covers over her head. "I’m better.”

“Yes, but are you better because of the meds?”

Her brain didn't feel quite as broken as before Miranda - her jumbled thoughts had indeed cleared. Somewhat. Instead of mass, chaotic confusion, she just felt chaotic confusion. She wanted to believe that purging Miranda from her mind had put her right but she could still feel madness creep through her broken brain. Jumping across severed nerves and flitting from one side to another just like a butterfly.

Still under the covers, she rolled onto her side and faced the wall not wanting to watch him administer the shot. She wondered if the ladybug was still on the ceiling. “Kaylee comforts you,” she said, squeezing her eyes shut as she felt the prick of the needle.

“Yes,” he said.

“She comforts me, too.” She imagined the gold colored medication flowing up through her vein mingling with her blood as it travelled to her heart and made its way to her brain. “But she won’t be able to if you make us leave.”

He didn't answer her.

“I’m sad that Kaylee will be sad.” River's voice softened - more from the effects of the medication than from what she was saying. A sense of languid tranquility spread through her. She pushed the covers off her head and looked up to find that the ladybug had grown even larger. The black and purple of the beetle’s back was so bright and the contrast was lovely against the boring, faded yellow of the walls.

“I don’t know what we’re going to do, River,” Simon snapped. “I just can’t live like this. Feeling useless.  
Everyone hating me.”

“They don’t hate you.” She sat up watching as the bug inched down to rest just behind Simon’s head.

“Jayne?” His mouth turned up in a bitter grin.

She looked from the ladybug to Simon. He had leaned back against the wall and was gazing at the empty cylinder. She smiled and touched his arm. “But he likes hating you. That’s different than hate hate.”

“Much as I enjoy being the object of Jayne’s recreational hate, I cannot ignore the fact that things on Serenity are bad right now.” He sighed heavily before meeting her gaze. “I think it will be best for everyone…us."

"You, you mean."

"If the Captain is intent on doing what I suspect, then, we - you and I - have no business being on this ship."  
"The Tam children on a smuggling vessel!” River affected the stilted accent of one of their Langsford cousins. “Whatever would Aunt Miriam say?"

Simon smiled.

"You're bored,” River said.

"It's not that. It’s just that…I feel like a burden." In his mind, he returned to his world on Ariel where he was most assuredly not a burden of any kind. Simon had loved the bustle of hospital life; barking out orders, people coming to him for advice, the smiles of grateful patients, easing pain, prolonging life...

"My entire medical expertise has been boiled down to doling out shots. No one gets wounded…" He shook his head surprised and appalled at what he had verbalized. He looked over at River. "I'm not saying that I want someone to be hurt…but…" Simon trailed off and gazed at the opposite wall.

"You're figuring me out." River needed to remind him that he did have a purpose. Unlike her who was content merely to exist, Simon needed a purpose.

"That will take a lifetime." He smiled and this time there was no tension in the smile. Just love. For her.  
"Are you finished?" She asked abruptly. Instead of comforting her, his loving smile had spread an unwelcome feeling over her and she wanted him to leave.

"Yes, let's go eat--"

"No," she said. "I'm ready for you to go."

Simon shrugged and left her alone.

River slid out of bed and grabbed yesterday’s dress that she had thrown on the floor. As she dressed, she looked for the ladybug and frowned when it couldn’t be found anywhere. Kneeling down, she opened one of the bins under her bed and rummaged through the assortment of oddities she had accumulated since her stay on Serenity until she found the particular protein bar that suited her today. Since the last month had seen more than enough mealtime unpleasantness, River steadfastly refused to be a part of it and kept a stash of protein bars in her room. She far preferred to eat alone in various nooks throughout the ship.

She grabbed her book and stepped out into the small corridor looking around to make sure no one was around. Satisfied that she was not being observed, she climbed up the ladder. Once at the top, she squeezed into a small accessway where she crawled until she reached another vent that opened into the space just below the cockpit. While it wasn’t really hidden, it was used so infrequently that it began to feel like her space where she could while away the hours undisturbed.

She sat on the floor with her back against the armory door and opened the battered book. When River had first found the book, it had been practically brand new. The plastic cover and paper pages were crisp, looking as if they had been perused but once. The first night she began reading it aloud to Simon, Kaylee, and Inara, she had focused on the task of speaking the words on the page. Then, she concentrated on dissecting the meaning of every single word in the sentence but she hadn’t yet realized that a story was behind all those words. The second night of reading, her brain pieced it all together and she was stunned. So stunned that she sat down abruptly and stopped reading aloud. Simon was worried that she had reached a catatonic stage but she waved him off and ran to her room where she huddled on her bed and greedily read the entire book.

In the past several days, River read the book seven times. It was old…old as in Earth-that-Was old but it wasn’t the kind of book on any reading list in Classical Literature at the Academy. It certainly hadn’t been in her parents’ library. It was too…plain…too honest and straightforward, too heartfelt for people who liked lofty things. Maybe that's why she loved it so; she felt she had discovered something beautiful that no one else knew about. She would bet that Professor Yanamato had never read this book and that fact alone made her love it even more.

She unwrapped the protein bar and mindlessly ate while she read her favorite passages. It took her mind off herself and out of Serenity. When she read, she didn’t hear the others. She just listened to Ponyboy. His voice alone penetrated her brain as she read of his family and friends.

“What are you doing?”

River jumped, startled that someone had found her. She looked up at the Captain who was looking at her sternly.

“Not supposed to be in here, you know.”

She gazed at the Captain for a few moments trying to come back to Serenity. “Johnny died,” she finally said.

“Who?” Mal's voice was impatient.

“He saved the children and then he died.”

He took the book from her hands. “The Outsiders,” he read. He looked at her for a few moments before sitting on the step facing her. “What’s it about?”

She looked up surprised at his interest. He looked back at her while she tried to discern if he was actually interested in her book.

“Greasers. The Outsiders. They were greasers and society ignored them. They were poor and helpless and ignorant. Ponyboy…” The words coming out of her mouth failed to adequately represent how the book made her feel. “I think you’re Darry.”

“And that means what?”

She shrugged. “Darry’s parents died and he had to take care of his brothers. Had to do whatever he could to take care of them. He loved them. But was mean to them. Nice mean.” That wasn’t it at all. Why couldn’t she express to the Captain how Darry really was? That he loved his family more than anything and traded his future to keep them together.

“Happy book,” Mal commented smiling at her.

She responded to his smile. It lifted her spirits – he so rarely offered one.

“Jayne is Dallas. I’m Johnny.”

“The kid who dies?”

She nodded tears welling in her eyes. “I’m dead.”

“Then we're differing on our definitions of dead.” He grinned again but this time it didn’t reach his eyes. She could see by the slight slump of his shoulders that his burdens had taken hold of him again.

“I know what you’re thinking,” River said.

“I know you know what I’m thinking.”

“No. I know what you’re thinking in the regular way.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“She cries for made up people but not real ones.”

“It does seem a mite odd.”

“But my insides hurt,” she said suddenly, her chin quivering. “All fiery and…I feel it.”

“It’s just a story,” Mal said.

She shook her head thinking of the tragedy of Johnny. Of death. Images that she tried to keep at bay invaded her mind – images of friends and families laying dead on the ground at Haven.

“What makes my life better than theirs?”

He was quiet, thinking over his answer. “People decided yours was more valuable. They’re the kind of people who find it very easy to step on them they dismiss as no account.”

She frowned, unhappy with his answer. It didn’t answer her question at all. But then, he couldn’t know her real question because she couldn’t figure out how to ask it.

“Ain’t your fault. Nothing in all of this is your fault.” Mal smiled. “Except your affinity for peeling labels and spying on people.”

She didn’t respond to his attempt at a joke. “Simon should have left me there. At the academy. Those people would still be alive.”

“No, River,” he said, his voice was gentle but stern. Mal tilted her face up to meet his gaze. “He did the right thing. Can’t believe he pulled it off, mind you, but he did the right thing. Not ya’lls fault bad people are after you.”

“Simon gave up his life for me.”

“He’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

“It’s not fair.”

He shook his head and gave her a rueful smile. “If you’re needing someone to expound on the fairness of life, I ain’t the man for the job.”

They sat in silence, Mal absently thumping the book against his knee. River watched him think purposefully not listening. She concentrated and put up a wall…No, a flowering hedge that buzzed with bees and butterflies who got along and made happy sounds together. She looked over the Captain's head to see the ladybug flying over him heading up to the bridge. River refused to be distracted and focused on the hedge, on the buzzing of the bees, on the colorful butterflies and forgot to hear the constant murmurs that plagued her to no end. As she realized her achievement, her excitement grew and she forgot about the hedge and the barrier fell _. No choice. Too far gone. No choice. Really gonna do this, aren't you? No choice._

The Captain's worry bombarded her. She wanted to help, needed to help this man who had done so much for her and her brother. “What are you going to do?”

“Was hoping you’d tell me,” Mal said, studying the cover of the book.

“Can’t you rob a bank?” The heist on Lilac had gone well. At least before the Reavers showed up.

“What bank? If you got a bank in mind that we know’s got untraceable cash that we can get to, then I’m all ears.”

“Smash and grab and git the hell out quick,” she said quoting Jayne.

“Yeah, but those kinda jobs get people killed.” Mal rubbed his eyes. “I’m hoping we can steer away from those for a spell.”

She fell silent again forcing herself to pay attention to this one problem. This time she didn't need to focus on the hedge, the distant hum of wafting thoughts quieted as she became immersed in trying to find a solution for the Captain.

“Blackmail!” She exclaimed, suddenly excited. “I know of a Parliamentary official who has an incestuous relationship with her brother. They have a special house together and pretend they’re married…”

Mal held up a hand, his face slightly appalled at the thought. “ ‘Preciate the offer, little one, but that ain’t exactly the kind of work I’m lookin for.”

"I know other things about important people…"

He shook his head.

"…even stuff that doesn't involve sex?"

"Let's avoid that, okay? Any more secrets percolating in your brain need to stay put."

“What are you going to do?” She asked again.

“I don’t know. I do know that I’m ready to get the hell off this gorramn rock. Wanna help?”

River looked into his eyes and saw the olive branch he offered. She smiled at him happy to realize that he hadn't forgotten about love. How could she have thought that when everything Darry did was meant to keep them together?

“I suppose you remember how to take her out?”

She nodded, her smile growing even broader. She wanted to fly. Fly like a butterfly or a ladybug, or a firefly. “Can’t.”

Mal eyebrow rose in surprise. “Care to fill me in on why not?”

“Jayne and Inara aren’t back yet.”

“What?” He exclaimed, quickly standing. “Where’d they go?”

River shrugged taking the book back from Mal. She saw the ladybug flying toward the bridge and wondered why she didn't dream of fireflies.

“Zoë!” Mal bellowed, running up from the stairs. River followed him and the ladybug as he stalked to the dining area.

“Zoë, you know where Inara and Jayne are?”

“They ain’t here?” Alarmed, Zoë set down the coffee pot she was holding with such force that the lid rattled.

“Kaylee! Simon!” Mal called into the com. “Get up here. Now.”

“You two know where Inara and Jayne went off to?” Mal called out as they approached the dining room.

They both looked surprised at the information. "They ain't here?" Kaylee asked.

“Gorrammit! I’m ready to get the hell out of here.”

The ladybug was flying over the Captain's head. River pointed to it and everyone in the dining area looked up to see what she was pointing at. She smiled unaware of their resigned looks.

“So they went to town,” Zoë said, walking to the Captain. “What’s the rush anyway?”

“You talked to Tito?” Mal asked, meeting her gaze.

Zoë sighed. She straightened even taller and looked at him steadily for a moment before speaking. “How low you plan on sinkin’ us?”

"Thought we talked about this." His voice dropped.

"You did the talkin' but looks like I'm the only one doin' the thinking." She emphasized thinking.

"Zoë…" Mal began but was interrupted as Jayne came bounding into the room.

River’s mouth fell open as she observed the big man practically skip over to the dining table. “See Jayne skip,” she said to no one in particular.

“Problem solved folks!" Jayne was jubilant. With great satisfaction, he dumped a great deal of cash on the table. "We’re back in business!”

Astounded, Mal and Zoë exchanged a quick glance.

“Jayne, how’d you come by this?" Zoë asked, sifting her hand through the money. "Do we need to get outta here quicklike?”

“No, Zoë. This is purely legitimate money. Earned mostly honestly and with alotta luck.” Jayne smirked at everyone in the room.

“How?” Mal asked.

“Our Ambassador.”

“This is Inara’s money?” Mal’s tone turned from wonder to dismay.

“Well," Jayne grinned. "Actually it was a coupla fellas money but it’s ours now.”

“What fellas?” Mal looked sick.

“You shoulda seen her. She was magnificent!”

“What?”

Jayne looked at the Captain for a moment a knowing grin soon appeared. “Those guys didn’t stand a chance. I tell you watching her was like watching an artist at work.” He sat down pleased to have the undivided attention of everyone in the room.

“You watched?!” Mal was horrified.

“Hell yes!” Jayne leaned back and propped his feet on a chair. “Learned a few tricks, too,” he said with a wink.

“Jayne, please,” Zoë said pushing his feet off the chair. “Offer us some clarification.”

“Poker,” Jayne replied. His tone not as arrogant as before.

“Who poked her?”

“No, Mal. The game. Poker. Cards. Gambling. I tell you she is a natural.”

“She won this money?”

“Yeah.”

“Is that a problem?” Inara called out as she walked into the dining room. “I assume you will take ill-gotten money of any kind.” She paused, putting on an exaggerated contemplative look on her face. “Although, gambling is legal in this town. And I know how you frown on money earned legally.” Inara winked at River.

“Can’t take this,” Mal said pushing the money in her direction. _Charity. No. Can’t. Yes. Weak._

“You should take the paper,” she said softly. She picked up a bill from the table and turned it over in her hands smoothing it out. “They used to make these from trees.” No one paid her any attention.

“I’ll pay you back.”

“Consider it payment for my room and board.”

“Inara…”

“Mal, please, just take it.” Inara stared at him silently begging him to be reasonable. He stared at her until she turned and left. Kaylee followed her.

River rolled the bill into a tight cylinder. She held it up to her eye and looked at Zoë through it. Zoë turned away.

Mal walked over and took the bill from her. “Doing’s like that ain’t earning anyone’s confidence.”

River’s chin rose slightly, “Yes, sir.”

“Zoë, go give this to her.” He threw down the bill on the table and gestured toward the money.

“No.”

Mal cocked his head before turning to face Zoë. His expression was a mix of anger and disbelief.

“Ain’t taking her money, Zoë!”

“Am I recollectin’ correctly that not more than one week ago you were callin’ on Inara for her freeloadin’ ways?”

“I never said that!”

“I’m sorry,” Zoë said, her voice sounding soft and deceptively contrite. “Must have been Simon that called her a ‘destitute prostitute’.”

Mal crossed his arms and glared at Zoë whose own gaze narrowed. They didn’t notice Simon and Jayne quietly and quickly vacating the dining area. River, caught behind them in the galley, shrank back against the storage compartments making herself as invisible as possible.

“We don’t take charity on my ship.” He spoke slow trying to keep his anger at bay.

Zoë shook her head, any patience she had all but gone. “You won’t take Inara’s winnings that she went to some trouble to get for us but you’ll jump at the chance to drag Kaylee into dǎi work?”

Mal continued to glare at her, his jaw tightening.

“Captain,” Zoë walked closer stopping inches from Mal. She called him ‘Captain’ but River could hear ‘Sergeant’ in her thoughts.

Zoë raised her chin, taking a deep breath. “I will escort her off this boat myself if you follow through with this luàn xiàng.”

Mal broke their gaze and River knew Zoë had won.

“I’m waitin’ for you to be reasonable,” Zoë said softly.

The glare faded from his eyes. “How long you been waiting on that?”

Zoë smiled with relief. “Long time, sir, long time.”

Mal nodded. “Ok, then. Don't think I left Oklahoma too cold, did I?

"I suspect he's more interested in business than grudges."

“I think so, too,” River piped in wanting to remind them that she was still in the room.

He looked over at River and smiled encouragingly but his reluctance to take Inara's money still hovered about him.

"Alright, let's seal this deal."

* * *

 

  
Inara and River sat outside Serenity waiting for Mal, Zoë, and Jayne to return from the meet with Oklahoma.

"I know what they're thinking!" River said, looking in the direction of Simon and Kaylee who loitered near Serenity’s idle port engine.

Inara looked back at them. "I think everyone knows what they're thinking."

"I could have helped, you know," River said.

Inara paused, mentally calculating the abrupt subject change. "I know."

"You wouldn't have to bluff."

"Bluffing is fun."

"You wouldn't lose."

"No!” Inara patted River’s arm to emphasize her position on River gambling.

Inara and Simon must have anticipated her request because he had said the same thing. It irritated her that her keeper of a brother would prevent her from helping the crew. She would be the best gambler ever. It wouldn’t even be gambling…

River looked up abruptly at the sound of a gaggle of geese flying overhead. Maybe tonight she would dream of them and could fly point leading her flock to warmer climes. She and her geese friends would all take turns heading the great vee. Each taking a turn leading the way when the other dropped back for rest.

She watched them fly away until the roar of the mule replaced the sound of their distant honking. Mal, Jayne, and Zoë had arrived back at Serenity. They looked much happier than the last time they had pulled into the cargo bay.

Jayne hopped out of the mule. With great self-importance, he strutted over to Inara and offered his fist.

Smiling at River, she touched his fist with her own. "Did you get your money back?"

"I did,” Jayne said patting his pocket. “If you want, I could try to get your bow back. That guy paid way less than it was worth."

"That's alright," Inara said quietly. River caught an orange flash from Inara as she thought about killing Reavers.

“Suit yourself,” Jayne said shrugging out of his drab green jacket. “Told the Cap’n how much you got fer it. He’ll give that back to you, at least.”

He nodded to Mal who had approached them.

"So…you two buddies now?" Mal asked as Jayne walked off. _Don't you have any idea what Jayne thinks of you?_

"I suppose so." Inara leaned back in her seat. _Renci de Fozu! Please tell me you aren't thinking that Jayne and I…_

"Well, here's what Jayne said you sold your bow for." He handed her a small stack of cash. _I hate giving her money. Not like it's that kind of money. This is her money. Not like we…_

River watched their exchange fascinated. Of all the conversations that took place aboard Serenity, the Captain's and Inara's were by far the most interesting. They never said what they thought. Unlike Simon and Kaylee who said too much and thought too little when they were…otherwise engaged.

"Didn't mean for you to sell your bow." _By the way, why exactly would she have a bow?_

"Let's hope I won't ever have a need for that again." _Have I ever done anything that makes anyone think I am at all interested in Jayne? It's Jayne. I know Jayne's interested in me. Well, not me me - he's interested in every woman he sees._

"Yeah." _If that bow is some sort of client thing then I really don't want to know._

"Why did you have a bow?" River asked. Mal glared down at her. She shrugged at him.

"Just for fun." Inara’s voice deadened imperceptibly. River glanced sharply at Inara whose mind had closed with an abrupt slam. Almost as if she had closed off a musty old attic room that contained loads and loads of forgotten junk. How did she do that? It was like she had just grown a flowering hedge of her own.

“Huh,” Mal said. _Keep outta my head, kid. Just don’t think. How can I not think? She looks so pretty right now. Don’t think that! Are you sending me a message?_ He looked at her suspiciously.

"No, Captain. I don't think I can do that." _Your fly is undone! Your fly is undone!_ The Captain didn’t react. Guess she really couldn’t send messages but that would be really neat. The fun she could have with Jayne.

“Well, that’s a comfort.” _I have to remember I'm mad at her but it’s hard when she looks all pretty- beautiful even when she’s looking at me like I’m an idiot. She can’t know what I’m thinking not like YOU. Don't think._ He shook his head and grinned at River giving her a wink.

River’s eyes widened in delighted surprise. Jumping out of her seat, she beamed up at him waiting for him to say the words.

“Ready to chart us off this rock?”

“Aye aye, Captain.” She hugged Inara, ran over to Simon and Kaylee, hugged them and then skipped up to the bridge.

* * *

 

River plotted Serenity’s course but the Captain had taken Serenity out. That was alright with her - she could still feel the worry of everyone over her ability to stay focused on the task at hand. Even she didn’t want the responsibility of having everyone’s lives in her not quite sane hands. Not now but maybe soon. Her hedge was growing and the flowers were blooming.

“Good to have a job, little one, ain’t it?” Mal said as they cleared atmo.

“Inara was helpful. You thought she --“

“Don’t matter what I thought,” Mal interrupted. “Should’ve known she was a gambler.”

She sat next to him happy to be back in his good graces. They looked out the window not speaking. After some time passed, River began telling him about the story of The Outsiders and filling him in on all the important details. He leaned back in the pilot’s seat and listened to her disjointed explanations.

“Have to go, Captain.”

“Gotta date?”

“My reading group awaits.”

“Thought you finished it.”

“I not them.” She paused at the hatch. “Will you come listen?” She asked shyly.

“Got things to do, little one,” he said, turning to the console.

She shrugged and strolled down to the common area. Simon, Kaylee and Inara were waiting for her.

She looked down at her audience and frowned. Kaylee was once again on Simon's lap. "No lap sitting," she said.

Kaylee slid off Simon's lap to sit between him and Inara on the couch. They all looked expectantly up at River.

“Well, whatcha waitin’ for?” Kaylee asked.

"Just wait."

Kaylee leaned back and snuggled closer to Simon. River rolled her eyes and gave them an irritated look. Kaylee gave her an irritated look right back.

The room was silent as they watched her watch them. River remained standing still for a few minutes until Mal came in.

He nodded to Simon and sat down on the chair next to Inara.

Kaylee beamed, throwing River a pleased look. “Cap’n, you don’t know the story. River’s readin’ the last bit.”

“She filled me in.”

River stood straighter and opened the book. She practically had the thing memorized but she liked letting her eyes feed her brain. Her reading strengthened as she went on. She paused only a few times to admonish her audience. "Please stop playing with his hair!" "Captain, please look at me I'm the one talking."

She didn’t let herself become too immersed in the story. She needed to be aware of her surroundings for River could see what the others couldn’t. Jayne had wandered closer from his weight bench and stood at the door listening.

She tippy toed over toward the bulkhead next the stairs. On the other side, out of view, was Zoë. She was sitting on the steps listening, too.

River faltered in her reading. She was happy. Everyone was almost where they should be.


End file.
